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 Iceland and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Livin' Joy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Max Romeo,
Cymande,
Davy DMX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
Radio Birdman,
Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
Marmalade,
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Evens,
Black Sheep,
Derrick May,
Essential Logic,
Groovy Waters,
Smog,
The Grass Roots,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
Pagans,
John Foxx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Walker Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moebius,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
Roxy Music,
Echospace,
Mars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Morten Harket,
Pierre Henry,
The Busters,
Agitation Free,
World's Most,
Eli Mardock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.