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 Lesotho and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Count Five to the rock 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deepchord,
The Moody Blues,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Lower 48,
The Doors,
Hoover,
Man Parrish,
Nico,
Inner City,
Sun City Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Unrelated Segments,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doobie Brothers,
Urselle,
Pantytec,
Lindisfarne,
The Star Department,
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
Scientists,
Mandrill,
The Human League,
Vainqueur,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Ituana,
FM Einheit,
Hasil Adkins,
Massinfluence,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Coltrane,
The Standells,
Kayak,
The Skatalites,
Fad Gadget,
DJ Style,
Mantronix,
Bad Manners,
Black Pus,
Outsiders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Pere Ubu,
Guru Guru,
The Five Americans,
Magazine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.