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 China and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang Green to the disco 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Warsaw,
Eli Mardock,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Godley & Creme,
Jerry's Kids,
Talk Talk,
Radiopuhelimet,
Carl Craig,
Scientists,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Real Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Rites of Spring,
Gerry Rafferty,
Interpol,
Funky Four + One,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gap Band,
Q and Not U,
Slave,
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
Pussy Galore,
Yusef Lateef,
Reagan Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
Zero Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Toni Rubio,
Gabor Szabo,
Aaron Thompson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Lou Reed,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Slits,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Byron Stingily,
Agent Orange,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
CMW,
Hoover,
The Beau Brummels,
cv313,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.