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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Outsiders to the electroclash 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Nik Kershaw,
The Barracudas,
Fela Kuti,
Black Pus,
Jacob Miller,
The Toasters,
Robert Görl,
Faust,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultra Naté,
Danielle Patucci,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
PIL,
Quadrant,
The Gap Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
Average White Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
Technova,
Camouflage,
The Pop Group,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
David Bowie,
China Crisis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Eden Ahbez,
Janne Schatter,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Scrapy,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yellowson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Searchers,
The Index,
Fat Boys,
Mantronix,
John Cale,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.