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 Portugal and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Marine Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
Qualms,
Main Source,
The American Breed,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
Quantec,
Sight & Sound,
Talk Talk,
The Techniques,
Zapp,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick May,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
Khruangbin,
Lucky Dragons,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blake Baxter,
Junior Murvin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Young Rascals,
Dual Sessions,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stetsasonic,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
The Electric Prunes,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Theoretical Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
The Victims,
Maurizio,
Cymande,
Motorama,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
A Certain Ratio,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.