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 Guinea and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lou Reed 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 Make Up to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Albert Ayler,
James White and The Blacks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
Duran Duran,
Outsiders,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
Thee Headcoats,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Leonard Cohen,
The Young Rascals,
Depeche Mode,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Goldenarms,
Babytalk,
Joe Smooth,
David Bowie,
Moebius,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
Kool Moe Dee,
Erykah Badu,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric Copeland,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yellowson,
Echospace,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Technova,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
Moss Icon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Morten Harket,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
The Pretty Things,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Loose Ends,
R.M.O.,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
The Neon Judgement,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.