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 Djibouti and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New Age Steppers to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
OOIOO,
The Saints,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gladiators,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Sheep,
The Gap Band,
David McCallum,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
In Retrospect,
Warren Ellis,
Brass Construction,
Black Flag,
Thompson Twins,
The Doors,
Von Mondo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Metal Thangz,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
AZ,
Q and Not U,
Intrusion,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Anthony Braxton,
Connie Case,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
Donald Byrd,
The Associates,
Sarah Menescal,
Janne Schatter,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
Essential Logic,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Japan,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
The Move,
The Motions,
Main Source,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.