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 Gabon and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 The Black Dice to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
Royal Trux,
Delta 5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
Derrick Morgan,
Grauzone,
The Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cluster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glenn Branca,
Pierre Henry,
Hoover,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Junior Murvin,
Siglo XX,
Oneida,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pantytec,
Fat Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Television Personalities,
PIL,
Letta Mbulu,
Crooked Eye,
Accadde A,
The Cure,
The Associates,
Pole,
MC5,
Silicon Teens,
Sixth Finger,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Near,
Minor Threat,
These Immortal Souls,
Gabor Szabo,
Henry Cow,
Cameo,
Radio Birdman,
Second Layer,
The Cowsills,
Tres Demented,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
DNA,
Cheater Slicks,
Buzzcocks,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.