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 Turkey and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Morten Harket to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells 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 techno 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Toasters,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Suburban Knight,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
ABBA,
One Last Wish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Names,
Idris Muhammad,
The Move,
Youth Brigade,
Lightning Bolt,
Mad Mike,
Tommy Roe,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Swell Maps,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
Max Romeo,
Clear Light,
Dennis Brown,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
Gichy Dan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cure,
June of 44,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
Kerri Chandler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hardrive,
Monolake,
Ice-T,
Mission of Burma,
The Zeros,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Raincoats,
Inner City,
Barbara Tucker,
Joy Division,
Laurel Aitken,
The Motions,
Black Moon,
The Cramps,
Neu!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pole,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.