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 Gabon and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 The Flesh Eaters to the techno 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
the Human League,
the Soft Cell,
Von Mondo,
Slick Rick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
OOIOO,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
The Remains,
Wings,
Pantytec,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonic Youth,
The Mojo Men,
Janne Schatter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hasil Adkins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
Malaria!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric Dolphy,
Grey Daturas,
Stiv Bators,
The Blackbyrds,
Ossler,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott Heron,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
The Mummies,
Desert Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultravox,
Judy Mowatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
Juan Atkins,
Morten Harket,
David Axelrod,
Connie Case,
Trumans Water,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
Delta 5,
Sam Rivers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Infiniti,
Erasure,
Aaron Thompson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Make Up,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.