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 Singapore and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a güiro 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Avey Tare,
Morten Harket,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Popol Vuh,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eurythmics,
Lindisfarne,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
LL Cool J,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Darondo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Das Ding,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Underground Resistance,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slave,
Sex Pistols,
Quadrant,
Wings,
Freddie Wadling,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
Dark Day,
John Holt,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Gichy Dan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Invisible,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yazoo,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.