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 Kazakhstan and from Lyon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 Tubeway Army to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
The Black Dice,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cure,
MC5,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Standells,
Todd Terry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Little Man,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
Godley & Creme,
Todd Rundgren,
Crooked Eye,
David Axelrod,
Pole,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Make Up,
The Doors,
Icehouse,
Prince Buster,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Banda Bassotti,
Grauzone,
Joensuu 1685,
Delta 5,
Half Japanese,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kas Product,
Hoover,
Vainqueur,
Magma,
The Beau Brummels,
Rod Modell,
Stiv Bators,
Al Stewart,
Los Fastidios,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Qualms,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
Laurel Aitken,
Silicon Teens,
James White and The Blacks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
Groovy Waters,
Babytalk,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.