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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Fall,
LL Cool J,
The Trojans,
Brand Nubian,
Juan Atkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Essential Logic,
The Kinks,
The Misunderstood,
Blake Baxter,
Malaria!,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Invisible,
Silicon Teens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
Dave Gahan,
Goldenarms,
Girls At Our Best!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Johnny Clarke,
Tres Demented,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angry Samoans,
Sight & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter & Gordon,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Sun City Girls,
the Slits,
Camberwell Now,
John Cale,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Last Poets,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
Kurtis Blow,
Soulsonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
the Human League,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glenn Branca,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.