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 Armenia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the dance 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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?
Amon Düül,
The Young Rascals,
Sex Pistols,
The Litter,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
Sight & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quando Quango,
D'Angelo,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
Fluxion,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Faust,
The Gap Band,
Slick Rick,
Surgeon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
the Human League,
This Heat,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nik Kershaw,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slave,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Index,
Niagra,
Albert Ayler,
Dawn Penn,
X-102,
Bauhaus,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Hood,
Simply Red,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
Laurel Aitken,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.