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 Croatia and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Soft Cell to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Symarip,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
Mandrill,
Excepter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cowsills,
John Cale,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
The Flesh Eaters,
Das Ding,
Aloha Tigers,
Pere Ubu,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Model 500,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Bananas,
Altered Images,
Ludus,
Moby Grape,
Parry Music,
JFA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
Mantronix,
New Age Steppers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
David McCallum,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Derrick May,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deepchord,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skaos,
Howard Jones,
Radiohead,
Ponytail,
the Normal,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ituana,
Kevin Saunderson,
cv313,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.