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 Korea North and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Public Image Ltd. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The J.B.'s,
New Order,
The Offenders,
10cc,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Flag,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
A Certain Ratio,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
Babytalk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Schoolly D,
Maleditus Sound,
The Star Department,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fall,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
The Wake,
Nas,
The Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Malaria!,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Aaron Thompson,
Livin' Joy,
The Durutti Column,
Cybotron,
The Pop Group,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Finger,
Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fugs,
kango's stein massive,
The Mummies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.