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 Afghanistan 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 Drive Like Jehu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
Inner City,
Lalann,
Jeff Lynne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bauhaus,
Sonic Youth,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Hot Snakes,
Lucky Dragons,
The Walker Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marine Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Rapeman,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
K-Klass,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minor Threat,
the Normal,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
Youth Brigade,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
Camberwell Now,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
The Shadows of Knight,
Symarip,
Goldenarms,
H. Thieme,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lyres,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Connie Case,
Outsiders,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Organ,
Ice-T,
Glenn Branca,
Cheater Slicks,
Hardrive,
The Young Rascals,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Neon Judgement,
AZ,
Parry Music,
Jacques Brel,
Wings,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.