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 Lithuania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Black Bananas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Massinfluence,
Moebius,
Babytalk,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxette,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marmalade,
Brand Nubian,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Public Enemy,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Associates,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Dead C,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Bluetip,
Sister Nancy,
The American Breed,
Kas Product,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
These Immortal Souls,
Alice Coltrane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
Ludus,
New Order,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Velvet Underground,
Howard Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grauzone,
Icehouse,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Althea and Donna,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
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.