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 Togo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Black Bananas,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
The Saints,
Altered Images,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül II,
The Smiths,
Trumans Water,
Mad Mike,
K-Klass,
Dawn Penn,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Roxy Music,
Pulsallama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cal Tjader,
Crash Course in Science,
Mars,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cheater Slicks,
Sight & Sound,
the Swans,
Second Layer,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
The Smoke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Carl Craig,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faust,
Au Pairs,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Stiv Bators,
Lindisfarne,
Adolescents,
Bobby Womack,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cure,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cowsills,
Brick,
The Evens,
Livin' Joy,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Bobby Sherman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.