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 Ghana and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Surgeon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Sandy B,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fuzztones,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young,
AZ,
Black Sheep,
The Real Kids,
Minny Pops,
Matthew Halsall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Susan Cadogan,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
LL Cool J,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sam Rivers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moleskins,
X-101,
David Axelrod,
The Saints,
The Cure,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
The Flesh Eaters,
Audionom,
U.S. Maple,
Von Mondo,
The Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
The United States of America,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
kango's stein massive,
Darondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Joy Division,
Yazoo,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Johnny Clarke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aswad,
Blossom Toes,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry,
Yellowson,
Pagans,
Tres Demented,
The Mummies,
Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Vogues,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.