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 Mongolia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blues Magoos to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
The Residents,
Minor Threat,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
Pere Ubu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yazoo,
Yaz,
Idris Muhammad,
Excepter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Erykah Badu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deadbeat,
X-102,
The Pretty Things,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Country Teasers,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
Newcleus,
Soulsonic Force,
Parry Music,
John Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
EPMD,
Michelle Simonal,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Lydon,
Gang Starr,
the Swans,
Desert Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sugar Minott,
Franke,
Eric Dolphy,
One Last Wish,
Alton Ellis,
Letta Mbulu,
Byron Stingily,
Kas Product,
Aaron Thompson,
Camouflage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Basic Channel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Green,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.