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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Schoolly D to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Dark Day,
Organ,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barrington Levy,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
The Cowsills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
Harpers Bizarre,
D'Angelo,
Dual Sessions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Pole,
David Bowie,
Matthew Bourne,
The Leaves,
Rakim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Smiths,
Wire,
Derrick May,
The Vogues,
Susan Cadogan,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Freddie Wadling,
Letta Mbulu,
Davy DMX,
Altered Images,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eden Ahbez,
Joyce Sims,
Niagra,
Motorama,
Graham Central Station,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
The Happenings,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
DJ Style,
Sällskapet,
Nick Fraelich,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.