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 France 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 Gang of Four to the grunge 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Mandrill,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Happenings,
Cybotron,
Alice Coltrane,
The Standells,
Visage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
the Germs,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
Angry Samoans,
Ultravox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moby Grape,
Camouflage,
KRS-One,
The Gap Band,
Ronan,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Black Flag,
Simply Red,
Lungfish,
The Busters,
Gang of Four,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blancmange,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Das Ding,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Gang Starr,
Goldenarms,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Remains,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Kinks,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Isaac Hayes,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.