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 Salvador.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Joe Smooth to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys 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?
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
The Gladiators,
June Days,
The Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Fad Gadget,
John Lydon,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
Darondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skriet,
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
The Saints,
Silicon Teens,
Hoover,
Franke,
Lucky Dragons,
Tres Demented,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
The Blackbyrds,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Knickerbockers,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cramps,
Marine Girls,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
Lungfish,
The Evens,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
Arcadia,
Supertramp,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
The Fall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
The Motions,
Second Layer,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.