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 Lebanon and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 MDC to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Skatalites,
New York Dolls,
Swans,
Donny Hathaway,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
The American Breed,
Johnny Clarke,
Isaac Hayes,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
The Evens,
Eli Mardock,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Rundgren,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
the Normal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cybotron,
Black Pus,
Thee Headcoats,
Nirvana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
Procol Harum,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Letta Mbulu,
Popol Vuh,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heaven 17,
Basic Channel,
Visage,
Tommy Roe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kurtis Blow,
The Victims,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Bourne,
Soul II Soul,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.