Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Golliwogs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Brass Construction,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gun Club,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
MC5,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gichy Dan,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
Niagra,
Unwound,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cowsills,
The Moleskins,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ronan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
Ludus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barrington Levy,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Zapp,
Yaz,
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
The Red Krayola,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
Dave Gahan,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.