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 Jordan and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Scratch Acid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 J.B.'s,
Joyce Sims,
Negative Approach,
Sugar Minott,
Brass Construction,
Bauhaus,
Warsaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marmalade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
Hoover,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Loose Ends,
Wire,
Mark Hollis,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dead C,
Boredoms,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Hood,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pretty Things,
The Associates,
Surgeon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Janne Schatter,
Khruangbin,
the Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Idris Muhammad,
Scion,
The Pop Group,
U.S. Maple,
Ohio Players,
The Monochrome Set,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Pylon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Young Marble Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.