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 Algeria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Index to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Simply Red,
The Slackers,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Steve Hackett,
Arcadia,
The Five Americans,
Althea and Donna,
K-Klass,
Bobby Womack,
Vainqueur,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Byron Stingily,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Association,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roger Hodgson,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
The Beau Brummels,
Minutemen,
Au Pairs,
The Durutti Column,
Scion,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Absolute Body Control,
KRS-One,
Essential Logic,
Masters at Work,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
Japan,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Sex Pistols,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Peter and Kerry,
Shuggie Otis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minnie Riperton,
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.