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 Korea North and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Tremeloes to the disco 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Althea and Donna,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
Scion,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
Trumans Water,
Sixth Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Glambeats Corp.,
Echospace,
CMW,
Yazoo,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The American Breed,
Bill Wells,
The Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed,
Harmonia,
The Wake,
Unwound,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
The Leaves,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Accadde A,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kas Product,
Silicon Teens,
Bad Manners,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
48th St. Collective,
Suburban Knight,
Juan Atkins,
Suicide,
Roger Hodgson,
Faraquet,
The J.B.'s,
Max Romeo,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
June Days,
The Pop Group,
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Minor Threat,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.