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 United States and from London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Darondo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eric Copeland,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sex Pistols,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Saints,
The Cure,
The Electric Prunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Con Funk Shun,
T. Rex,
Crime,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
Al Stewart,
Sixth Finger,
The Gories,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
The Seeds,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantytec,
Anakelly,
Mars,
Darondo,
X-102,
John Foxx,
Brass Construction,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
Babytalk,
Henry Cow,
Cymande,
Kenny Larkin,
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Buzzcocks,
Thompson Twins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABBA,
Symarip,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cramps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Bang On A Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.