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 Suriname and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Monks,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Max Romeo,
Easy Going,
Duran Duran,
Au Pairs,
Jandek,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dirtbombs,
Deakin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maurizio,
June of 44,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
Pere Ubu,
Minutemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eurythmics,
Suburban Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Das Ding,
The Beau Brummels,
Piero Umiliani,
Dead Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pylon,
the Swans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sandy B,
Simply Red,
The Happenings,
Eden Ahbez,
Jesper Dahlback,
Judy Mowatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vainqueur,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.