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 Georgia and from Lille.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Stetsasonic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Rakim,
Connie Case,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
The Smoke,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Invisible,
Slave,
Eli Mardock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
The Grass Roots,
Mad Mike,
Crooked Eye,
Nation of Ulysses,
DNA,
Country Teasers,
The Buckinghams,
Graham Central Station,
Joey Negro,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
Can,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
Arab on Radar,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
Anthony Braxton,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Basic Channel,
DJ Sneak,
John Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
Bush Tetras,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
Talk Talk,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.