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 San Marino and from Lyon.
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 Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Ornette Coleman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
The Smiths,
Mo-Dettes,
The Motions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
Cymande,
Second Layer,
Saccharine Trust,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
Suicide,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gabor Szabo,
Guru Guru,
The Mojo Men,
Intrusion,
MDC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul II Soul,
Howard Jones,
Crooked Eye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Spoonie Gee,
X-102,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masters at Work,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soft Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Iggy Pop,
Unrelated Segments,
Interpol,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Halsall,
Lucky Dragons,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Easy Going,
Henry Cow,
Mission of Burma,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.