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 Lithuania and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Easy Going,
Sparks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kerri Chandler,
Little Man,
Joe Smooth,
Ohio Players,
Erasure,
Ituana,
Section 25,
Black Bananas,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Zeros,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Metal Thangz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Altered Images,
Sex Pistols,
The Neon Judgement,
Cybotron,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
Marshall Jefferson,
Public Image Ltd.,
T.S.O.L.,
MDC,
Joey Negro,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Adolescents,
Swell Maps,
Thompson Twins,
Davy DMX,
E-Dancer,
Minny Pops,
Half Japanese,
Index,
Kaleidoscope,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donald Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
The Fugs,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
Yaz,
Lightning Bolt,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.