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 Guatemala and from Mumbai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Leonard Cohen to the rock 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
Monks,
The Trojans,
The Martian,
The Pretty Things,
The Mojo Men,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Velvet Underground,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scan 7,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Style,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
The Smoke,
Arthur Verocai,
A Certain Ratio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Crime,
Thee Headcoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Misunderstood,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Ice-T,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Animal Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Moon,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
Skaos,
The Blackbyrds,
Unwound,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Joyce Sims,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fugs,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Black Flag,
the Association,
Letta Mbulu,
Eve St. Jones,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.