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 Morocco and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Moleskins to the rock 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Cal Tjader,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gun Club,
Wings,
Fear,
Bobby Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Ohio Players,
The Human League,
Chrome,
Mandrill,
T. Rex,
Johnny Clarke,
The Happenings,
Kayak,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Parry Music,
Eli Mardock,
The Five Americans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eurythmics,
Pharoah Sanders,
Unwound,
Skaos,
Matthew Halsall,
Harpers Bizarre,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Lindisfarne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Simply Red,
Excepter,
La Düsseldorf,
Livin' Joy,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Au Pairs,
Franke,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Das Ding,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Motions,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
Bauhaus,
MDC,
Inner City,
Tears for Fears,
Khruangbin,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.