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 Togo and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erasure to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
The Buckinghams,
James White and The Blacks,
Lightning Bolt,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Little Man,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masters at Work,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Judy Mowatt,
Warren Ellis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Livin' Joy,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Loose Ends,
The Victims,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Terry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zero Boys,
Crime,
The Skatalites,
Warsaw,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terrestrial Tones,
PIL,
Neu!,
Mars,
Wire,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
The Techniques,
Section 25,
Cybotron,
Con Funk Shun,
Kayak,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
Icehouse,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
Sam Rivers,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.