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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba 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 mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
PIL,
The Cure,
Simply Red,
Metal Thangz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
Zero Boys,
The Sound,
Alphaville,
Wings,
These Immortal Souls,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Wally Richardson,
John Holt,
Stiv Bators,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Don Cherry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Archie Shepp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Starr,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rekid,
Rosa Yemen,
H. Thieme,
T.S.O.L.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Modern Lovers,
Monolake,
Derrick May,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
Joyce Sims,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Tubeway Army,
Steve Hackett,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Green,
Ohio Players,
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
Television,
Clear Light,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.