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 Fiji and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Swell Maps to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Mission of Burma,
Spoonie Gee,
Bootsy Collins,
Tom Boy,
Max Romeo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sister Nancy,
Lakeside,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonic Youth,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harmonia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Saints,
Unrelated Segments,
Joe Smooth,
the Association,
U.S. Maple,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Man Parrish,
Thompson Twins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter and Kerry,
The Busters,
Massinfluence,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rod Modell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Schoolly D,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
New York Dolls,
Connie Case,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Victims,
John Foxx,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.