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 Cambodia and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fania All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Parrish,
Aswad,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
Faraquet,
Country Teasers,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Symarip,
Arcadia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Barracudas,
Index,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
CMW,
Derrick May,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Yazoo,
The Wake,
Eli Mardock,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
Buzzcocks,
Technova,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mummies,
A Certain Ratio,
Groovy Waters,
Heaven 17,
Sarah Menescal,
The Real Kids,
Masters at Work,
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Silicon Teens,
The Selecter,
Charles Mingus,
The Slackers,
Stetsasonic,
Eric Dolphy,
ABBA,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.