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 Oman and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bronski Beat to the jazz 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gories,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
Malaria!,
Main Source,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monks,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
The Seeds,
Dawn Penn,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
Ornette Coleman,
Organ,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Grey Daturas,
Agent Orange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
Blake Baxter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Freddie Wadling,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Flipper,
the Association,
Lalo Schifrin,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
Henry Cow,
Frankie Knuckles,
Second Layer,
Franke,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
Lyres,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Misunderstood,
Loose Ends,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.