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 Namibia and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pantytec to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Ludus,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick May,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Au Pairs,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Altered Images,
The Busters,
Grauzone,
Aswad,
The Trojans,
Bobby Womack,
Thompson Twins,
One Last Wish,
Ultra Naté,
The Barracudas,
Amazonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
Yaz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
Tears for Fears,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris Corsano,
Colin Newman,
Peter and Kerry,
Cameo,
Bush Tetras,
Groovy Waters,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
8 Eyed Spy,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
Angry Samoans,
Motorama,
ABBA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.