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 San Marino and from Johannesburg.
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 Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Sound Behaviour,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
The Happenings,
Theoretical Girls,
The Invisible,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sight & Sound,
CMW,
Althea and Donna,
Moss Icon,
Barrington Levy,
Suburban Knight,
The Index,
Pole,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cramps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minutemen,
Fad Gadget,
Wasted Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sparks,
Cal Tjader,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Halsall,
The Move,
Hoover,
Smog,
The Monochrome Set,
The Human League,
Country Teasers,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Sneak,
Sun City Girls,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Pus,
The Mummies,
Basic Channel,
Colin Newman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Young Rascals,
Lyres,
Inner City,
Depeche Mode,
The Birthday Party,
Ten City,
John Foxx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fear,
Desert Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.