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 Japan and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marmalade to the techno 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Kenny Larkin,
Wire,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
David McCallum,
The Searchers,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smiths,
Moss Icon,
Con Funk Shun,
The Red Krayola,
Hardrive,
Absolute Body Control,
The Real Kids,
New York Dolls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
Byron Stingily,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerri Chandler,
Depeche Mode,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hashim,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
Sun City Girls,
The Five Americans,
Pantaleimon,
LL Cool J,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radio Birdman,
The Birthday Party,
Dual Sessions,
Godley & Creme,
MC5,
Panda Bear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jacob Miller,
Mantronix,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Christie,
The Tremeloes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Roxette,
Warsaw,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.