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 Guatemala and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Public Image Ltd. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Beau Brummels,
Technova,
K-Klass,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
The Selecter,
Rekid,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Make Up,
Von Mondo,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
New York Dolls,
Sonic Youth,
Echospace,
Basic Channel,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
Au Pairs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soul II Soul,
The Blackbyrds,
Lebanon Hanover,
LL Cool J,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
Fat Boys,
Intrusion,
Skarface,
The Detroit Cobras,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Half Japanese,
Tres Demented,
Joey Negro,
E-Dancer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Television,
Niagra,
Slave,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.