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 Estonia and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Electric Prunes,
Heaven 17,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
Qualms,
T. Rex,
Don Cherry,
The Monochrome Set,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
kango's stein massive,
Moss Icon,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Severed Heads,
The Black Dice,
KRS-One,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronan,
Nas,
The Trojans,
Aswad,
Tommy Roe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neu!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Archie Shepp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lakeside,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
New Order,
Warren Ellis,
The J.B.'s,
Blake Baxter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
H. Thieme,
The Litter,
Index,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Sneak,
The Martian,
The Techniques,
Marc Almond,
The Velvet Underground,
Ituana,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.