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 Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Osbourne 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
Inner City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Average White Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Moebius,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
The Star Department,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Halsall,
Urselle,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
Q and Not U,
Basic Channel,
Minnie Riperton,
CMW,
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
Quadrant,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Whodini,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Delta 5,
Gerry Rafferty,
Khruangbin,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Y Pants,
Pulsallama,
Severed Heads,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Index,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.