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 Belgium and from Tehran.
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 Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Arcadia to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The Leaves,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Motorama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
Marine Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wasted Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Judy Mowatt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Iggy Pop,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
AZ,
Thompson Twins,
Erykah Badu,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
The J.B.'s,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
Aural Exciters,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Massinfluence,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
The Blues Magoos,
Vainqueur,
Icehouse,
Terry Callier,
Ohio Players,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pylon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rekid,
Thee Headcoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
David Axelrod,
World's Most,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pussy Galore,
Howard Jones,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Christie,
MDC,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.