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 St Lucia 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boredoms to the rap 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
The Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Foxx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anthony Braxton,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
David McCallum,
Carl Craig,
Oblivians,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Unwound,
Suicide,
Sight & Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
John Cale,
Roxy Music,
Anakelly,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
The Cowsills,
Babytalk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Essential Logic,
Ossler,
Agent Orange,
LL Cool J,
Intrusion,
Donny Hathaway,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Swans,
Can,
K-Klass,
The Cramps,
The Knickerbockers,
Charles Mingus,
A Certain Ratio,
Iggy Pop,
Ken Boothe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Zapp,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon,
Basic Channel,
Sonic Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Easy Going,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monolake,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.