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 Albania and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Alarm Clocks to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios 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?
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
Clear Light,
Rod Modell,
Alice Coltrane,
DJ Sneak,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
The Offenders,
Stiv Bators,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wally Richardson,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
Dennis Brown,
Connie Case,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
June Days,
New Age Steppers,
Terry Callier,
Steve Hackett,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cameo,
Cybotron,
The Slackers,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
Sight & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
CMW,
The Doors,
Motorama,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tres Demented,
Quadrant,
Crime,
Schoolly D,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Can,
Ludus,
Fear,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantaleimon,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.