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 Beijing.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Sheep to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
Intrusion,
Bluetip,
Junior Murvin,
New York Dolls,
Cluster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Barry Ungar,
Sixth Finger,
Trumans Water,
the Swans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
PIL,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
The Divine Comedy,
Alton Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doors,
Jerry's Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy Collins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Symarip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Kaleidoscope,
Joy Division,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
Mary Jane Girls,
Agent Orange,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Fad Gadget,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.