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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Barrington Levy to the dance 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Yazoo,
John Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Byron Stingily,
New York Dolls,
Moby Grape,
Bauhaus,
Reuben Wilson,
Moebius,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monks,
UT,
The Litter,
Pantaleimon,
Second Layer,
The Gap Band,
Fat Boys,
The Cure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cybotron,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ossler,
Rod Modell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Pagans,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Youth Brigade,
The Angels of Light,
Mars,
Lou Reed,
KRS-One,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Minutemen,
Pussy Galore,
Adolescents,
Connie Case,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
Roxy Music,
Alton Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gories,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.