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 Milan.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Glambeats Corp. to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Vladislav Delay,
Delon & Dalcan,
Simply Red,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young,
Amazonics,
L. Decosne,
Index,
DJ Sneak,
Funkadelic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
Howard Jones,
Ludus,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
F. McDonald,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon,
ABC,
Stiv Bators,
The Cramps,
Roxy Music,
U.S. Maple,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
David Axelrod,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
David McCallum,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
Flash Fearless,
Colin Newman,
Tears for Fears,
Eddi Front,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pylon,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Prince Buster,
The Five Americans,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.