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 Morocco and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 The Golliwogs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Litter,
Harry Pussy,
The Kinks,
The Neon Judgement,
Popol Vuh,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Marine Girls,
the Human League,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wings,
Hardrive,
The Slits,
Amazonics,
Ossler,
Slave,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
Saccharine Trust,
Index,
Hoover,
Kurtis Blow,
Roger Hodgson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nirvana,
E-Dancer,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
John Foxx,
Rosa Yemen,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun Ra,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Bananas,
Dennis Brown,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Fat Boys,
The Gap Band,
The Victims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Steve Hackett,
John Cale,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.