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 Benin and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gichy Dan to the dance 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Theoretical Girls,
Tres Demented,
Franke,
Youth Brigade,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
The Residents,
T. Rex,
Dark Day,
Black Sheep,
Zapp,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
Sight & Sound,
Scion,
the Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
The Associates,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Accadde A,
Lightning Bolt,
Moebius,
Heaven 17,
Cybotron,
The Moleskins,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy Collins,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
Section 25,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pylon,
Royal Trux,
Freddie Wadling,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drexciya,
Schoolly D,
Sonic Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cowsills,
The Doors,
Rod Modell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terry Callier,
Byron Stingily,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Wells,
Marc Almond,
The Busters,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.