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 Botswana and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bronski Beat to the funk 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brothers Johnson,
Wally Richardson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronan,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
The Doors,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Janne Schatter,
cv313,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Porter Ricks,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Count Five,
June Days,
Mo-Dettes,
Heaven 17,
Angry Samoans,
Erykah Badu,
Pantytec,
Simply Red,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare,
Arthur Verocai,
Kenny Larkin,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
Massinfluence,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.