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 Kuwait and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pole to the jazz 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Saints,
The Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
Bauhaus,
The Cowsills,
Ultra Naté,
Colin Newman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Absolute Body Control,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Buckinghams,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust,
The Searchers,
Funkadelic,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ituana,
Tears for Fears,
Shuggie Otis,
Guru Guru,
the Germs,
Pere Ubu,
The Golliwogs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chris Corsano,
Accadde A,
Radio Birdman,
Nils Olav,
Wings,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
The Selecter,
Jeff Mills,
Zero Boys,
David Bowie,
Piero Umiliani,
The Barracudas,
Youth Brigade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fad Gadget,
Leonard Cohen,
Rufus Thomas,
Ornette Coleman,
Moby Grape,
Hashim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Lightning Bolt,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.