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 Nauru and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 The Stooges to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Vainqueur,
Arcadia,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cybotron,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Brand Nubian,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Absolute Body Control,
The Smiths,
Tears for Fears,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rod Modell,
Vladislav Delay,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bob Dylan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Sheep,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anakelly,
Sex Pistols,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
John Lydon,
New Age Steppers,
The Names,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fuzztones,
The Trojans,
Stetsasonic,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gap Band,
Stereo Dub,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.