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 Italy and from Portland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Donald Fagen 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 Moss Icon to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
Skarface,
Monks,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Green,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
Supertramp,
Swans,
Sister Nancy,
Jeff Mills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Christie,
Bauhaus,
the Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Circle Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
June Days,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
John Holt,
Suicide,
The Cowsills,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
Connie Case,
The Blues Magoos,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
Derrick May,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Age Steppers,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Colin Newman,
Chrome,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Zapp,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.