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 Belgium and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the crunk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Fluxion,
the Human League,
New York Dolls,
Vladislav Delay,
Gabor Szabo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hardrive,
Ultra Naté,
Fatback Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Mark Hollis,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
The Gap Band,
Arab on Radar,
the Germs,
Lightning Bolt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Skarface,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nico,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Ornette Coleman,
Junior Murvin,
The Smoke,
David Axelrod,
The Mojo Men,
Marmalade,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Soulsonic Force,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Slave,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ultravox,
The Motions,
Guru Guru,
Television Personalities,
The Moleskins,
Arcadia,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.