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 Iran and from London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fat Boys to the crunk 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Monks,
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Cell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Shoche,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Order,
Alphaville,
New Age Steppers,
The Busters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Qualms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radiohead,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magma,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science,
Pagans,
Boredoms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mummies,
Maleditus Sound,
Babytalk,
Icehouse,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brand Nubian,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacques Brel,
Marmalade,
Livin' Joy,
Morten Harket,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grey Daturas,
Scion,
Tom Boy,
Drexciya,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Liliput,
The Standells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Grass Roots,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
Mars,
The Velvet Underground,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.