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 Croatia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Average White Band to the grunge 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
H. Thieme,
Model 500,
T. Rex,
Gabor Szabo,
Accadde A,
Hardrive,
Roxette,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Moby Grape,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
The Busters,
Animal Collective,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Seeds,
The Skatalites,
Davy DMX,
Television,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Mad Mike,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Talk Talk,
Morten Harket,
Sam Rivers,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Cluster,
Mo-Dettes,
Bluetip,
Los Fastidios,
Howard Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
ABBA,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
A Certain Ratio,
In Retrospect,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.