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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '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 Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Flash Fearless,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lakeside,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
Derrick May,
Ohio Players,
Fat Boys,
Minor Threat,
Masters at Work,
Panda Bear,
Delta 5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Das Ding,
Jawbox,
Zapp,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Machine,
The Move,
Magma,
Liliput,
The American Breed,
Radiohead,
Adolescents,
Sound Behaviour,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Five Americans,
Bill Wells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Isaac Hayes,
Cybotron,
Faust,
Glenn Branca,
Trumans Water,
Tomorrow,
The Litter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Parry Music,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terry Callier,
The Stooges,
The Invisible,
The Vogues,
Crooked Eye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Womack,
Pere Ubu,
Dave Gahan,
The Walker Brothers,
June Days,
Slave,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.