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 Greece and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gladiators to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel,
Stetsasonic,
Sixth Finger,
Khruangbin,
Kaleidoscope,
Gong,
The Gories,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
The Mummies,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Star Department,
Todd Terry,
Icehouse,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
The Doobie Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Metal Thangz,
Joe Smooth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
Half Japanese,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Japan,
the Human League,
cv313,
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television Personalities,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sällskapet,
Agent Orange,
Unwound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
Negative Approach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nils Olav,
Boz Scaggs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.