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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deakin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Aloha Tigers,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
The Wake,
Black Moon,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
The Slits,
Ossler,
The Offenders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
AZ,
The Zeros,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun City Girls,
Cluster,
Intrusion,
Franke,
Don Cherry,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Al Stewart,
Vainqueur,
Ten City,
The Velvet Underground,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Davy DMX,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Connie Case,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Pulsallama,
Amazonics,
Bauhaus,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Organ,
Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
The Cowsills,
The Cramps,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rites of Spring,
Cecil Taylor,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.