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 Switzerland and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blues Magoos to the grime 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Surgeon,
Magma,
Rosa Yemen,
The Raincoats,
The Mojo Men,
Pantytec,
Lyres,
the Normal,
Anthony Braxton,
Newcleus,
Roger Hodgson,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Scan 7,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang On A Can,
Q65,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
The Star Department,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boz Scaggs,
Duran Duran,
Scientists,
The Cure,
Qualms,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Pierre Henry,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Remains,
Infiniti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Unwound,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
UT,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.