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 Ecuador and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Desert Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Shoche,
Massinfluence,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
D'Angelo,
Ohio Players,
The Associates,
Japan,
Theoretical Girls,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Inner City,
Yaz,
Rites of Spring,
Ten City,
Can,
The Beau Brummels,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
AZ,
the Human League,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Tremeloes,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
Los Fastidios,
Subhumans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sparks,
Pagans,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Franke,
Eli Mardock,
The Fugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Association,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
The Birthday Party,
The Human League,
The Selecter,
Deakin,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.