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 Cameroon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Bronski Beat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Soul II Soul,
Pagans,
John Foxx,
Faraquet,
AZ,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kenny Larkin,
Henry Cow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
OOIOO,
The Stooges,
Jawbox,
Magma,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
FM Einheit,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Section 25,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
The Real Kids,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neil Young,
Aloha Tigers,
Model 500,
The Fugs,
Pantaleimon,
Gichy Dan,
Chris & Cosey,
Parry Music,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Todd Terry,
Masters at Work,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Qualms,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
The Blackbyrds,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun Ra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.