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 France and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel 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?
The Slackers,
Erasure,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
KRS-One,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Darondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Human League,
The Kinks,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sight & Sound,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
The Real Kids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultravox,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake,
Japan,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smoke,
David McCallum,
Alphaville,
Iggy Pop,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Adolescents,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
CMW,
Dennis Brown,
Eurythmics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Lyres,
Harmonia,
Dual Sessions,
Zapp,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.