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 Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Funky Four + One,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
The Doobie Brothers,
EPMD,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
Technova,
the Association,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
The Neon Judgement,
Second Layer,
Joy Division,
kango's stein massive,
Sight & Sound,
Scrapy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Tremeloes,
Royal Trux,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Cameo,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fuzztones,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
Brothers Johnson,
Colin Newman,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rapeman,
AZ,
Deepchord,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Adolescents,
Pole,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.