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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stereo Dub to the rap 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
John Cale,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
Inner City,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Walker Brothers,
The Star Department,
Infiniti,
Delta 5,
Hasil Adkins,
Mo-Dettes,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
R.M.O.,
Stetsasonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
LL Cool J,
Curtis Mayfield,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crash Course in Science,
Erasure,
Camouflage,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
The Vogues,
Neu!,
Kenny Larkin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-Ray Spex,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Leonard Cohen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronan,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.