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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dawn Penn to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
Niagra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Lou Reed,
Scott Walker,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
Country Teasers,
Mantronix,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up,
Soul Sonic Force,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
Nas,
Khruangbin,
Bang On A Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cowsills,
Bluetip,
June Days,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deakin,
Neil Young,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Steve Hackett,
F. McDonald,
Pantaleimon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ornette Coleman,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
The Cramps,
The Smoke,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Aloha Tigers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swans,
The Techniques,
Average White Band,
a-ha,
Colin Newman,
X-101,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David Axelrod,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Busters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.