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 Somalia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Derrick May to the dance 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
Wire,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Neil Young,
Hot Snakes,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Franke,
Popol Vuh,
Sister Nancy,
Country Teasers,
Deadbeat,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Alphaville,
Roxette,
Jawbox,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Soul II Soul,
Accadde A,
Pantaleimon,
Mandrill,
Harmonia,
Whodini,
Sixth Finger,
X-102,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
Sarah Menescal,
Khruangbin,
Bob Dylan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Leonard Cohen,
Patti Smith,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Surgeon,
Dark Day,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick May,
the Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
Faust,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.