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 Malaysia and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Brass Construction to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat 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?
Mad Mike,
Model 500,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Sherman,
Arcadia,
Tim Buckley,
PIL,
The Move,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dave Gahan,
The Kinks,
Bill Wells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mantronix,
Ronan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick May,
Eric Dolphy,
Susan Cadogan,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Rites of Spring,
Slave,
Joe Finger,
Maurizio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
The Martian,
The Five Americans,
Sandy B,
Roxette,
The Gun Club,
Dennis Brown,
China Crisis,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
The Tremeloes,
Arab on Radar,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bad Manners,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
Pagans,
The Gories,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.