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 Iran and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Pierre Henry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson,
T. Rex,
Brick,
Suicide,
the Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sarah Menescal,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
In Retrospect,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
Bush Tetras,
Slick Rick,
Fatback Band,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chrome,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Near,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Icehouse,
The Pretty Things,
Blossom Toes,
Soulsonic Force,
Newcleus,
Camberwell Now,
David McCallum,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Style,
the Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Von Mondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quando Quango,
Mark Hollis,
The Velvet Underground,
Idris Muhammad,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Masters at Work,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.