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 Mozambique and from Stockholm.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Count Five to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Morten Harket,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang On A Can,
Youth Brigade,
Jandek,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Sneak,
The Zeros,
Maleditus Sound,
the Sonics,
AZ,
Moby Grape,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Birthday Party,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
UT,
Gang Gang Dance,
Organ,
Procol Harum,
Grey Daturas,
Franke,
T. Rex,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter & Gordon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Walker Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Thee Headcoats,
Public Enemy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hashim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
B.T. Express,
Kool Moe Dee,
Index,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Oneida,
This Heat,
Alton Ellis,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.