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 Montenegro and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Minor Threat to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Graham Central Station,
Sun City Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Depeche Mode,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Trumans Water,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
The Count Five,
Patti Smith,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Skatalites,
Alphaville,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quando Quango,
DJ Style,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mission of Burma,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pole,
The Standells,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faust,
Suicide,
Roxette,
Agent Orange,
Schoolly D,
Intrusion,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Scott Walker,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Finger,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.