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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sonny Sharrock to the rap 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Rapeman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
The Slits,
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Rotary Connection,
Alice Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Sound Behaviour,
Erykah Badu,
Henry Cow,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick May,
Malaria!,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scrapy,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Alton Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
Joy Division,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
Todd Terry,
The Stooges,
Laurel Aitken,
Simply Red,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
Maleditus Sound,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash,
China Crisis,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.