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 Nigeria and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Japan,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Donald Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Anakelly,
a-ha,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang of Four,
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
The Modern Lovers,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sällskapet,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
Leonard Cohen,
Accadde A,
Eric B and Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marvin Gaye,
Talk Talk,
Heaven 17,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
The Remains,
Scion,
Nils Olav,
The Human League,
Gang Green,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q65,
Audionom,
Underground Resistance,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxy Music,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
The Neon Judgement,
Bush Tetras,
Flash Fearless,
Stereo Dub,
London Community Gospel Choir,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
Lower 48,
Procol Harum,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.