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 Korea North and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 cv313 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
Roy Ayers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Echospace,
The Moleskins,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
E-Dancer,
David Axelrod,
Juan Atkins,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Hoover,
Spandau Ballet,
Lakeside,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Panda Bear,
Roger Hodgson,
Excepter,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Slick Rick,
Section 25,
Kurtis Blow,
X-101,
The Cowsills,
Masters at Work,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mark Hollis,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Warsaw,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sparks,
Marvin Gaye,
Kaleidoscope,
Desert Stars,
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
D'Angelo,
Alphaville,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Wally Richardson,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.