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 Georgia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Second Layer to the techno 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
Ultravox,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cure,
Fluxion,
Q and Not U,
China Crisis,
F. McDonald,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reagan Youth,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
Half Japanese,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eli Mardock,
DNA,
Sight & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Los Fastidios,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Goldenarms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Simply Red,
Sällskapet,
Hardrive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultra Naté,
the Association,
Make Up,
Bronski Beat,
Ten City,
Ludus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Parry Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mummies,
Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
Albert Ayler,
Gabor Szabo,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.