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 Tajikistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Technova,
The Associates,
Max Romeo,
David Axelrod,
Pierre Henry,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Bananas,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
the Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magazine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Terry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
OOIOO,
Todd Rundgren,
Audionom,
Organ,
The Motions,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
John Holt,
CMW,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kenny Larkin,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Q65,
KRS-One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pulsallama,
Lightning Bolt,
Negative Approach,
The Dead C,
the Germs,
Brothers Johnson,
the Normal,
Reagan Youth,
Jeff Mills,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Flag,
Bush Tetras,
Ituana,
Jacob Miller,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.