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 Macedonia and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 L. Decosne 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Moby Grape,
Scientists,
This Heat,
Eve St. Jones,
K-Klass,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül II,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arcadia,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Swans,
Toni Rubio,
LL Cool J,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Ken Boothe,
a-ha,
The Mummies,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
The Red Krayola,
Audionom,
Amon Düül,
Fear,
Boredoms,
Sister Nancy,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
World's Most,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gong,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultimate Spinach,
Royal Trux,
Yaz,
The Beau Brummels,
Terry Callier,
Ituana,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Brothers Johnson,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
Con Funk Shun,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Groovy Waters,
Basic Channel,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
China Crisis,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.