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 Turkey and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marvin Gaye to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Das Ding,
Radiohead,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Mission of Burma,
Barclay James Harvest,
MDC,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
Radio Birdman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pussy Galore,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
The Zeros,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fuzztones,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
Hasil Adkins,
Skarface,
Barrington Levy,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Crime,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra,
Second Layer,
Dead Boys,
Motorama,
Graham Central Station,
The Cramps,
Spoonie Gee,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Albert Ayler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erasure,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxy Music,
Wasted Youth,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.