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 the UAE and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers,
Smog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
the Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
kango's stein massive,
Faust,
ABBA,
Camberwell Now,
Audionom,
Freddie Wadling,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker,
Isaac Hayes,
Nico,
Lalann,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps,
Bill Wells,
The Litter,
U.S. Maple,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Shuggie Otis,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kaleidoscope,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
Ornette Coleman,
PIL,
This Heat,
Laurel Aitken,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Masters at Work,
H. Thieme,
Silicon Teens,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.