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 Belgium and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
Moebius,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
Peter & Gordon,
Pierre Henry,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
The Divine Comedy,
The Black Dice,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
R.M.O.,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hardrive,
Bobby Womack,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Motions,
The Mojo Men,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
Massinfluence,
Todd Terry,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gories,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Starr,
Bob Dylan,
The Skatalites,
H. Thieme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalo Schifrin,
Al Stewart,
Black Moon,
The Evens,
Hot Snakes,
Shuggie Otis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Hood,
The Misunderstood,
Eurythmics,
Gong,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Move,
Mission of Burma,
The Remains,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.