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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lower 48 to the grime 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Reagan Youth,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti,
Stiv Bators,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slick Rick,
Agitation Free,
Make Up,
Lungfish,
Suburban Knight,
Ultravox,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
Simply Red,
Bush Tetras,
Kas Product,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Zapp,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
The Slackers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Yazoo,
Sixth Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Audionom,
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans,
Duran Duran,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nils Olav,
John Lydon,
Cameo,
MDC,
Marc Almond,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
T.S.O.L.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Altered Images,
Jawbox,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
Archie Shepp,
Bronski Beat,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.