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 Niger and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joy Division to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
Fugazi,
This Heat,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
Au Pairs,
The Walker Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Monks,
The Residents,
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Busters,
Easy Going,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
The Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
The Knickerbockers,
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans,
Josef K,
JFA,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
U.S. Maple,
Suburban Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Seeds,
The Dead C,
Mantronix,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sight & Sound,
Minny Pops,
Excepter,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
Ornette Coleman,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.