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 Vanuatu and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeff Mills to the jazz 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
PIL,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
Joe Smooth,
The Busters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lakeside,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pagans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sällskapet,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
Sex Pistols,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The New Christs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Vainqueur,
Faust,
Main Source,
Joy Division,
Minnie Riperton,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Offenders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Animal Collective,
Khruangbin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Move,
Flipper,
The Names,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Sheep,
Sugar Minott,
Underground Resistance,
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Hoover,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.