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 Taiwan and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sex Pistols to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Eve St. Jones,
Donald Byrd,
the Normal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun City Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Rapeman,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Rotary Connection,
Jawbox,
Sandy B,
Arthur Verocai,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Charles Mingus,
Maleditus Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Halsall,
Outsiders,
The Birthday Party,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispian St. Peters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
The United States of America,
Delon & Dalcan,
AZ,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Ten City,
The Standells,
Chrome,
Morten Harket,
The Martian,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.