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 Senegal and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Mars,
Niagra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Accadde A,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
X-101,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pretty Things,
kango's stein massive,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moody Blues,
Dead Boys,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Reagan Youth,
Excepter,
The Angels of Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Dave Gahan,
The Remains,
Simply Red,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
Gerry Rafferty,
Godley & Creme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Y Pants,
Archie Shepp,
Flipper,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pere Ubu,
The Count Five,
Ultra Naté,
Anthony Braxton,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
Circle Jerks,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
Absolute Body Control,
E-Dancer,
Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Joe Smooth,
Desert Stars,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.