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 Suriname and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Deadbeat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tom Boy,
Chris Corsano,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
MC5,
Easy Going,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pretty Things,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Inner City,
Tears for Fears,
Sarah Menescal,
Livin' Joy,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
Ronnie Foster,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
Oblivians,
Erykah Badu,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
Crispian St. Peters,
Godley & Creme,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
Simply Red,
The Gladiators,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
The Angels of Light,
This Heat,
The Skatalites,
Soul Sonic Force,
Unwound,
Leonard Cohen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Detroit Cobras,
LL Cool J,
Eurythmics,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.