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 Hungary and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Copeland,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spoonie Gee,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
AZ,
The Litter,
Cybotron,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Walker Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
Adolescents,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
Nas,
Roxette,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris Corsano,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Rundgren,
Funky Four + One,
The Black Dice,
New Order,
JFA,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Starr,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Ronan,
One Last Wish,
Thompson Twins,
Negative Approach,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Kenny Larkin,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.