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 El Salvador and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marcia Griffiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
Bill Near,
cv313,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Wyatt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mars,
Shoche,
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quando Quango,
Camberwell Now,
The Slits,
Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
Agent Orange,
Adolescents,
Ohio Players,
The Cure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moody Blues,
Magazine,
Suburban Knight,
Marvin Gaye,
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brass Construction,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joe Smooth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hasil Adkins,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.