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 Papua New Guinea and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Desert Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
The Star Department,
Wolf Eyes,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
Chris Corsano,
Sex Pistols,
Pulsallama,
Davy DMX,
Fatback Band,
The New Christs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
Eric Dolphy,
Mission of Burma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Smiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
The Barracudas,
David McCallum,
The Leaves,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Trumans Water,
Half Japanese,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispy Ambulance,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Divine Comedy,
Tomorrow,
June Days,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Stetsasonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sällskapet,
Aaron Thompson,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
The Fortunes,
Marine Girls,
The Fall,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.