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 Morocco and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Sly & The Family Stone,
This Heat,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
The Fortunes,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
Warren Ellis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kenny Larkin,
Agent Orange,
The Barracudas,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
a-ha,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
Massinfluence,
Lungfish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Organ,
Reagan Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Albert Ayler,
The Toasters,
Don Cherry,
JFA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Count Five,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Pet Shop Boys,
Darondo,
Matthew Bourne,
The Real Kids,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Circle Jerks,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Certain Ratio,
Joyce Sims,
Clear Light,
Wire,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.