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 Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 Cybotron to the rap 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
Desert Stars,
Lyres,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
Glenn Branca,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
Erykah Badu,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Kas Product,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
New Age Steppers,
Alison Limerick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
The Busters,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
Pussy Galore,
The Happenings,
Wire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Stooges,
The Index,
The Sonics,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Schoolly D,
The Blackbyrds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Germs,
Loose Ends,
Darondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Move,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.