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 Ivory Coast and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Real Kids to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rhythm & Sound,
LL Cool J,
New York Dolls,
Harmonia,
The Fall,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
The Invisible,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Graham Central Station,
La Düsseldorf,
Anthony Braxton,
Donald Byrd,
Grey Daturas,
Swans,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Sonics,
Technova,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
Section 25,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minor Threat,
Amazonics,
Wings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun City Girls,
Malaria!,
Tears for Fears,
Neu!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camberwell Now,
Joey Negro,
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.