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 Syria and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Zapp to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Nas,
Au Pairs,
The Martian,
Rotary Connection,
Panda Bear,
Bill Near,
Yaz,
The Slackers,
Organ,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
The Monks,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Starr,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Machine,
CMW,
48th St. Collective,
Andrew Hill,
Neu!,
Graham Central Station,
The Wake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
The Cure,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hoover,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
Minor Threat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
Nico,
Q65,
Mad Mike,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
Brand Nubian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
EPMD,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
ABC,
Main Source,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sound,
The Invisible,
Wire,
Neil Young,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
Bluetip,
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.