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 Slovenia and from Tokyo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The J.B.'s to the crunk 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Five Americans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cal Tjader,
Brothers Johnson,
FM Einheit,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Clarke,
Sparks,
Flipper,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The American Breed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Age Steppers,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
Grey Daturas,
Ornette Coleman,
Supertramp,
Maurizio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bauhaus,
The Count Five,
Skarface,
Joe Finger,
Faust,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Standells,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints,
Section 25,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Parry Music,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gap Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rekid,
Dark Day,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bluetip,
Adolescents,
Goldenarms,
Magazine,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Wells,
Monolake,
Kas Product,
Technova,
Das Ding,
Kevin Saunderson,
Television Personalities,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.