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 Malawi and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flesh Eaters to the punk 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
The Martian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Au Pairs,
Rufus Thomas,
Spoonie Gee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
John Coltrane,
E-Dancer,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Public Image Ltd.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Zapp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
The Modern Lovers,
Faust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
F. McDonald,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
Quantec,
Ronnie Foster,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
Chrome,
The Move,
Fluxion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
H. Thieme,
Skarface,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moss Icon,
Roxy Music,
Rakim,
Ice-T,
Lalann,
The Fortunes,
Rotary Connection,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.