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 Honduras and from Manila.
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 Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Crime to the funk 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
The Skatalites,
DNA,
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harry Pussy,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Loose Ends,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
David McCallum,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
Robert Wyatt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Absolute Body Control,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hasil Adkins,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Byrd,
One Last Wish,
The Offenders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Saccharine Trust,
Morten Harket,
JFA,
Godley & Creme,
Aswad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Average White Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.