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 Oman and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Sexual Harrassment to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Excepter,
Josef K,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Funkadelic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Bootsy Collins,
Albert Ayler,
One Last Wish,
Eli Mardock,
Siglo XX,
Parry Music,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Almond,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Faust,
The Count Five,
Slave,
Sarah Menescal,
Hoover,
Main Source,
Khruangbin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Banda Bassotti,
The Golliwogs,
Tubeway Army,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
Kenny Larkin,
The Walker Brothers,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Susan Cadogan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
The Move,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
The Mummies,
The Gladiators,
Eve St. Jones,
Japan,
New Order,
Intrusion,
MC5,
The Searchers,
Andrew Hill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.