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 Botswana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the disco 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Sixth Finger,
48th St. Collective,
F. McDonald,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül II,
The Sound,
AZ,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Franke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
L. Decosne,
Accadde A,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Roger Hodgson,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tim Buckley,
Unwound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Monks,
UT,
The Mummies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Guru Guru,
Deakin,
Vainqueur,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
Mr. Review,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.