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 Rwanda and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Erykah Badu,
Crime,
Scratch Acid,
ABC,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
In Retrospect,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scrapy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cybotron,
The Skatalites,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy Collins,
Gichy Dan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Babytalk,
X-101,
Zapp,
The Last Poets,
The Wake,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
Roy Ayers,
Jacob Miller,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
Kenny Larkin,
Skarface,
Judy Mowatt,
The Remains,
Josef K,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sight & Sound,
The Residents,
X-Ray Spex,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Silicon Teens,
Toni Rubio,
Wolf Eyes,
E-Dancer,
Ten City,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Deakin,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Wire,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.