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 Niger and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
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 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 H. Thieme to the funk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Archie Shepp,
The Tremeloes,
48th St. Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Cluster,
Pylon,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cymande,
Yellowson,
Rufus Thomas,
a-ha,
Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
E-Dancer,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Altered Images,
Swell Maps,
Nico,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Average White Band,
Public Enemy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Negative Approach,
Mary Jane Girls,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalann,
Avey Tare,
CMW,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Chrome,
Faust,
Ituana,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Certain Ratio,
Wasted Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacob Miller,
Moby Grape,
Gang of Four,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.