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 Gambia and from Milan.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Model 500 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Associates,
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Inner City,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
The Cramps,
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed,
Von Mondo,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Bourne,
The Remains,
Animal Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Rod Modell,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aural Exciters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
The Invisible,
FM Einheit,
Malaria!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vladislav Delay,
New York Dolls,
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
The American Breed,
Bobby Sherman,
Sister Nancy,
Bush Tetras,
Joensuu 1685,
David McCallum,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.