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 Uzbekistan and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Trojans,
Suburban Knight,
Pharoah Sanders,
Supertramp,
Funky Four + One,
Fad Gadget,
Wasted Youth,
The Techniques,
World's Most,
Kerri Chandler,
Vainqueur,
Circle Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Rites of Spring,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mummies,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Wire,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flipper,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
the Association,
Subhumans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bizarre Inc.,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Kayak,
Nico,
LL Cool J,
Max Romeo,
Section 25,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flash Fearless,
Rotary Connection,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dennis Brown,
Crooked Eye,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.