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 Jamaica and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Infiniti to the disco 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Kenny Larkin,
Suicide,
Jerry's Kids,
Kas Product,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun City Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick Morgan,
The Motions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Whodini,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
The Mummies,
Ultra Naté,
Unrelated Segments,
Duran Duran,
The Red Krayola,
Popol Vuh,
Liliput,
Angry Samoans,
Visage,
Deakin,
Dawn Penn,
The Skatalites,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Funkadelic,
Dennis Brown,
Slick Rick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ituana,
Cheater Slicks,
David Axelrod,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fortunes,
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül,
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Bill Wells,
The Techniques,
Altered Images,
Talk Talk,
Lower 48,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
Can,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.