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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
Scott Walker,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
Grauzone,
Guru Guru,
Y Pants,
Drexciya,
Tears for Fears,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
Bizarre Inc.,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Slits,
the Soft Cell,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Connie Case,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Goldenarms,
cv313,
Colin Newman,
June of 44,
Magazine,
In Retrospect,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Dead Boys,
Heaven 17,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sparks,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Alphaville,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Carl Craig,
kango's stein massive,
John Cale,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacob Miller,
Gichy Dan,
Tim Buckley,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.