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 United States and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
Deadbeat,
Pussy Galore,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rites of Spring,
Lungfish,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Stereo Dub,
Jeff Lynne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Pole,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Desert Stars,
The Martian,
Dark Day,
The Wake,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
X-101,
The Birthday Party,
L. Decosne,
Grauzone,
Essential Logic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
AZ,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Modern Lovers,
The Barracudas,
Bauhaus,
Camouflage,
the Association,
Scott Walker,
Quadrant,
Wire,
Leonard Cohen,
This Heat,
Fela Kuti,
John Cale,
Siglo XX,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monks,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Suicide,
Janne Schatter,
Peter & Gordon,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.