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 Turkmenistan and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
K-Klass,
Jerry's Kids,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Hood,
The Skatalites,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Metal Thangz,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultravox,
New Age Steppers,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
JFA,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gories,
Dave Gahan,
The Happenings,
Siglo XX,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Gregory Isaacs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Foxx,
Mark Hollis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
Erykah Badu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pretty Things,
Cecil Taylor,
Sexual Harrassment,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
Althea and Donna,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Womack,
Delta 5,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
The Cowsills,
Chris Corsano,
The J.B.'s,
Sight & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Marine Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.