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 Angola and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Ponytail to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
F. McDonald,
Juan Atkins,
Mantronix,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
Porter Ricks,
The Real Kids,
Basic Channel,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
The Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nik Kershaw,
Japan,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Monolake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
DNA,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Malaria!,
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Joey Negro,
Ronan,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Germs,
Echospace,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fortunes,
The Associates,
Minny Pops,
Sonic Youth,
The Fire Engines,
The Velvet Underground,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
Yellowson,
Ken Boothe,
New Order,
The Mummies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moby Grape,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.