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 Benin and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rekid to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magma,
Gabor Szabo,
Anakelly,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultra Naté,
Severed Heads,
Don Cherry,
Joey Negro,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Organ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Brand Nubian,
Smog,
Suicide,
Cluster,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fuzztones,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
The Skatalites,
Lindisfarne,
The Monochrome Set,
Kayak,
Lou Christie,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lyres,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
OOIOO,
X-102,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
EPMD,
Flash Fearless,
ABC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
The Wake,
Chris & Cosey,
A Certain Ratio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.