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 United States and from Seoul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 The Real Kids to the techno 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
In Retrospect,
Banda Bassotti,
Rod Modell,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Pagans,
Arcadia,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bush Tetras,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
Cal Tjader,
The American Breed,
Joy Division,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
The Monochrome Set,
Public Image Ltd.,
10cc,
Carl Craig,
Fear,
Desert Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blackbyrds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Tom Boy,
The Count Five,
Michelle Simonal,
Y Pants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
Soft Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Skriet,
World's Most,
Organ,
Jeff Mills,
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
Surgeon,
The Motions,
Marvin Gaye,
Section 25,
Minny Pops,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.