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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Blossom Toes,
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ludus,
The Slackers,
Clear Light,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Mills,
Underground Resistance,
Mission of Burma,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Peter and Kerry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Heaven 17,
Mo-Dettes,
The Buckinghams,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Saccharine Trust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Golliwogs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tres Demented,
Fluxion,
Organ,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
Pantytec,
Banda Bassotti,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
the Germs,
The Gap Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.