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 China and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the rap 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Motorama,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Siglo XX,
Toni Rubio,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Eddi Front,
Index,
Sparks,
Amazonics,
Sun City Girls,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
The Last Poets,
Alison Limerick,
Echospace,
Albert Ayler,
Iggy Pop,
Rotary Connection,
The Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rufus Thomas,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Green,
The Slackers,
Schoolly D,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fluxion,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Tres Demented,
10cc,
Carl Craig,
Au Pairs,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Panda Bear,
Jacob Miller,
R.M.O.,
Dual Sessions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABC,
Niagra,
Average White Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Tom Boy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.