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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
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 Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aswad,
Dennis Brown,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Joe Smooth,
The Vogues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Urselle,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Spoonie Gee,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacques Brel,
New Order,
The Flesh Eaters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
Oneida,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Television,
Tears for Fears,
Roxy Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Schoolly D,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
EPMD,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
Pere Ubu,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Anakelly,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
Alphaville,
K-Klass,
Rotary Connection,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gun Club,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.