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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the techno 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Shuggie Otis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Niagra,
The Buckinghams,
Boredoms,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Terry,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks,
The Count Five,
Grauzone,
The Pop Group,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Near,
Graham Central Station,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
The Raincoats,
Bad Manners,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Severed Heads,
B.T. Express,
Bush Tetras,
Albert Ayler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ponytail,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.