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 Gambia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Mr. Review to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Green,
Loose Ends,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Slave,
Toni Rubio,
The Victims,
Zero Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
China Crisis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Techniques,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
Henry Cow,
Jacques Brel,
Michelle Simonal,
Brass Construction,
Duran Duran,
Dave Gahan,
Camouflage,
MC5,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smoke,
Ken Boothe,
Godley & Creme,
EPMD,
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Black Sheep,
Television,
OOIOO,
Black Bananas,
The American Breed,
Yusef Lateef,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy Collins,
Moby Grape,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fortunes,
Josef K,
Flash Fearless,
Hardrive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Surgeon,
Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.