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 Zimbabwe and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Happenings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Adolescents,
Erykah Badu,
Deepchord,
Minnie Riperton,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Pantytec,
Pagans,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Quando Quango,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
the Human League,
The Sisters of Mercy,
10cc,
Monolake,
Absolute Body Control,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Saccharine Trust,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
Grauzone,
New Order,
Skaos,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
Audionom,
Lower 48,
Gang Gang Dance,
The J.B.'s,
Minor Threat,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls,
Oneida,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Au Pairs,
Bob Dylan,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arab on Radar,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fluxion,
Soft Machine,
Newcleus,
Parry Music,
Joe Smooth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.