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 Gabon and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Can to the electroclash 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Television Personalities,
Peter and Kerry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Qualms,
Porter Ricks,
The Moleskins,
Malaria!,
The Smiths,
Zapp,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Golliwogs,
The Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Görl,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
Pierre Henry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Simply Red,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alton Ellis,
John Cale,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soul II Soul,
Yazoo,
Can,
Rites of Spring,
Nirvana,
Stiv Bators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
Moby Grape,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Near,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lebanon Hanover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.