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 Austria and from Cairo.
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 Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 48th St. Collective to the techno 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Quadrant,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Clarke,
Scan 7,
Alphaville,
The Doors,
Andrew Hill,
Rekid,
The Five Americans,
Cheater Slicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Iggy Pop,
Stetsasonic,
The New Christs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scrapy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Ken Boothe,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Heaven 17,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
June of 44,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
The Zeros,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Niagra,
the Sonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Whodini,
Maurizio,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
Robert Görl,
The Busters,
the Normal,
Pierre Henry,
Bob Dylan,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.