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 Russia and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the funk 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Quadrant,
Donny Hathaway,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anakelly,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar,
The Moleskins,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aloha Tigers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Standells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mantronix,
Urselle,
MC5,
Tom Boy,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
Barry Ungar,
Roxy Music,
The Blues Magoos,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
Surgeon,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
Simply Red,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
Erasure,
Dave Gahan,
the Germs,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
Soul II Soul,
June of 44,
Funkadelic,
Kayak,
Altered Images,
Mary Jane Girls,
Moss Icon,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.