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 South Africa and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Althea and Donna to the techno 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Reagan Youth,
Chris Corsano,
the Association,
Popol Vuh,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magma,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
The Zeros,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scientists,
Deakin,
Mad Mike,
Niagra,
Second Layer,
Stereo Dub,
Faust,
Arcadia,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Style,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Wells,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Average White Band,
Chrome,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Offenders,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
Tres Demented,
Soft Machine,
Skarface,
Swell Maps,
Janne Schatter,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
E-Dancer,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.