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 Romania and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Lydon to the grunge 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
DNA,
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
Unrelated Segments,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Cymande,
The Offenders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mission of Burma,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
The Mojo Men,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
The Smiths,
The Toasters,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funky Four + One,
Eurythmics,
The Raincoats,
Chris & Cosey,
Janne Schatter,
Skarface,
Harry Pussy,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Sugar Minott,
The Moleskins,
The Beau Brummels,
Essential Logic,
Ornette Coleman,
The Evens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Fatback Band,
Quadrant,
Nas,
In Retrospect,
The Dirtbombs,
Motorama,
Depeche Mode,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
Index,
Roy Ayers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.