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 Angola and from London.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Colin Newman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Harmonia,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Osbourne,
Buzzcocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalann,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joy Division,
10cc,
Flash Fearless,
Funkadelic,
Youth Brigade,
Model 500,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Mission of Burma,
Lyres,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Raincoats,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Görl,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Groovy Waters,
Ken Boothe,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Rapeman,
Soulsonic Force,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lower 48,
Eric Dolphy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lakeside,
The Buckinghams,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Main Source,
The Fortunes,
The Real Kids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.