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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the techno 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
Gil Scott Heron,
Animal Collective,
The Moleskins,
Nico,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mars,
L. Decosne,
Rufus Thomas,
The Victims,
MDC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ponytail,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultra Naté,
The Techniques,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Newcleus,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Smooth,
Albert Ayler,
Skriet,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
The Busters,
Toni Rubio,
Vladislav Delay,
Iggy Pop,
Negative Approach,
Cecil Taylor,
kango's stein massive,
Country Teasers,
Eric Copeland,
Dual Sessions,
Rosa Yemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Skatalites,
Crash Course in Science,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Sonic Youth,
Agent Orange,
Boredoms,
Soft Machine,
Rekid,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.