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 Botswana and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Y Pants,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Motorama,
DNA,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
K-Klass,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Christie,
The Selecter,
Glenn Branca,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Royal Trux,
The Buckinghams,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Dual Sessions,
Mission of Burma,
The Moleskins,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
cv313,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Colin Newman,
Unwound,
Aswad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cecil Taylor,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
Avey Tare,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
Sound Behaviour,
Henry Cow,
OOIOO,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stereo Dub,
Deadbeat,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Stiv Bators,
Shoche,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mr. Review,
Mandrill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sonny Sharrock,
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.