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 Palau and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Man Eating Sloth 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry's Kids,
John Lydon,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
The Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
One Last Wish,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Names,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Dark Day,
Archie Shepp,
F. McDonald,
Althea and Donna,
the Normal,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
Rufus Thomas,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young,
Faraquet,
Ultimate Spinach,
AZ,
The Seeds,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Max Romeo,
Thompson Twins,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
L. Decosne,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.