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 Uganda and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Buzzcocks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
X-101,
Radio Birdman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fatback Band,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultra Naté,
Bauhaus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blossom Toes,
Sixth Finger,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Halsall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donny Hathaway,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Smooth,
Symarip,
Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Silicon Teens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Human League,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
Ultravox,
Black Moon,
Derrick May,
Metal Thangz,
the Normal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Easy Going,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stiv Bators,
KRS-One,
U.S. Maple,
Boredoms,
Funkadelic,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Axelrod,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.