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 Nicaragua and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Steve Hackett to the grunge 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
X-102,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Flag,
DNA,
Ludus,
Cymande,
Freddie Wadling,
The J.B.'s,
Adolescents,
Matthew Halsall,
The Durutti Column,
The Fall,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
Erasure,
Radio Birdman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
8 Eyed Spy,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
Cybotron,
Easy Going,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mark Hollis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chris & Cosey,
Cal Tjader,
K-Klass,
The Doors,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Talk Talk,
The Offenders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minor Threat,
Au Pairs,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
Thompson Twins,
New Age Steppers,
Zero Boys,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Joe Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.