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 Zimbabwe and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 EPMD to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Davy DMX,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Liliput,
DJ Style,
The Beau Brummels,
John Foxx,
Scott Walker,
The United States of America,
Siglo XX,
Tommy Roe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yaz,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marmalade,
The Fortunes,
Carl Craig,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless,
Interpol,
the Normal,
Massinfluence,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Intrusion,
The Smoke,
David Axelrod,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Josef K,
Smog,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deakin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fear,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Bowie,
K-Klass,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.