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 Syria and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Boz Scaggs 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Ossler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Residents,
EPMD,
X-102,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sixth Finger,
Organ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Theoretical Girls,
the Sonics,
Rekid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Desert Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Pus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Near,
The Cramps,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
Minnie Riperton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Tomorrow,
The Black Dice,
Cal Tjader,
Lee Hazlewood,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stetsasonic,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Tremeloes,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
The Moleskins,
Liliput,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.