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 Denmark 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alice Coltrane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Dual Sessions,
Glenn Branca,
Fat Boys,
The Zeros,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mandrill,
Technova,
The Moody Blues,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Golliwogs,
Procol Harum,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Ituana,
Terry Callier,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
John Lydon,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
The Durutti Column,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
10cc,
Idris Muhammad,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Wake,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Dark Day,
The Black Dice,
The Gladiators,
Quadrant,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Second Layer,
The Saints,
The Star Department,
Eric Copeland,
DJ Style,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Trojans,
Flipper,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.