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 Belarus and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Delta 5 to the disco 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra,
Joey Negro,
Barrington Levy,
Black Moon,
Gang Starr,
Black Pus,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Josef K,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
David Axelrod,
H. Thieme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Deakin,
Kenny Larkin,
the Association,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fluxion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Malaria!,
Black Bananas,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s,
Pantytec,
The United States of America,
Soft Cell,
Absolute Body Control,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gichy Dan,
The Grass Roots,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Mummies,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
the Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Suicide,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
The Young Rascals,
Alton Ellis,
Crime,
The New Christs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Seeds,
Bizarre Inc.,
LL Cool J,
Can,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.