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 Mozambique and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rakim to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Swans,
The Fall,
The Young Rascals,
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül,
Warsaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
Liliput,
The Gun Club,
10cc,
The Offenders,
Rapeman,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Terry,
The Selecter,
Outsiders,
The Remains,
Whodini,
Tim Buckley,
Rod Modell,
The Knickerbockers,
June Days,
Vainqueur,
Camberwell Now,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Hood,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Black Moon,
Glenn Branca,
the Human League,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
The Buckinghams,
The Evens,
Thee Headcoats,
kango's stein massive,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nils Olav,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Unrelated Segments,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.