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 Honduras and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the dance 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall 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?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Popol Vuh,
the Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marvin Gaye,
This Heat,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Dennis Brown,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
Dual Sessions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
Fad Gadget,
The Toasters,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang of Four,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vainqueur,
The Human League,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aaron Thompson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Holt,
Lou Christie,
The Fortunes,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
Fugazi,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bauhaus,
The Litter,
The Index,
Skriet,
The United States of America,
Pussy Galore,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
Siglo XX,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.