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 Slovenia and from Johannesburg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scion 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
Y Pants,
Bootsy Collins,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultimate Spinach,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echospace,
Section 25,
Albert Ayler,
Motorama,
Smog,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oneida,
R.M.O.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Janne Schatter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Niagra,
Kas Product,
Lightning Bolt,
Sixth Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Babytalk,
Don Cherry,
Moebius,
Kerri Chandler,
10cc,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Monks,
Fela Kuti,
The Moody Blues,
Harmonia,
Fluxion,
Radiohead,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Schoolly D,
The Gun Club,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blancmange,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
Sight & Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moleskins,
Joy Division,
Erykah Badu,
Nico,
Yazoo,
Darondo,
Marvin Gaye,
Saccharine Trust,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.