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 Bhutan and from New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum 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 Aural Exciters to the grunge 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Michelle Simonal,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharoah Sanders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
In Retrospect,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Leonard Cohen,
Funkadelic,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Pylon,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
DJ Style,
Pussy Galore,
Vainqueur,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
David McCallum,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jandek,
Alison Limerick,
The Buckinghams,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
The Martian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Visage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Loose Ends,
Cal Tjader,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Japan,
D'Angelo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.