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 Djibouti 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Suicide to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blackbyrds,
Blossom Toes,
Lakeside,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Unwound,
Marvin Gaye,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
Fad Gadget,
Steve Hackett,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
The Saints,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yazoo,
Pantytec,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
Sugar Minott,
Half Japanese,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Bourne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Quadrant,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Average White Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Hill,
Easy Going,
The New Christs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
The Gap Band,
X-101,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Marc Almond,
Ponytail,
Robert Hood,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.