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 Malta 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 Bootsy Collins to the techno 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quantec,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
Los Fastidios,
Howard Jones,
X-102,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABC,
AZ,
The Gladiators,
Faust,
Shuggie Otis,
Slave,
The Divine Comedy,
Trumans Water,
A Certain Ratio,
Pierre Henry,
The Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Motions,
The Evens,
The New Christs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
The Fugs,
The Black Dice,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Y Pants,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Delta 5,
Barrington Levy,
Anthony Braxton,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
The Moleskins,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Scion,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nik Kershaw,
Talk Talk,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.