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 Philippines 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 David Bowie 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 Amon Düül to the rap 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marmalade,
The Grass Roots,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick Morgan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grey Daturas,
JFA,
Neu!,
ABBA,
June of 44,
Monks,
Soft Machine,
Jawbox,
Visage,
Scan 7,
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
John Foxx,
Liliput,
Ludus,
Barrington Levy,
Procol Harum,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Victims,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slave,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
John Holt,
The Dirtbombs,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Near,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
Mr. Review,
Aaron Thompson,
Mandrill,
Das Ding,
Scratch Acid,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
The Gap Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.