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 Pakistan 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
The Move,
Index,
Harmonia,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Joensuu 1685,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neil Young,
The Blues Magoos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blossom Toes,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
A Certain Ratio,
D'Angelo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
The United States of America,
Bob Dylan,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Newcleus,
Blake Baxter,
Rapeman,
Mantronix,
a-ha,
The Durutti Column,
Massinfluence,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Surgeon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Pus,
The Cowsills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hasil Adkins,
The Searchers,
The Gories,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.