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 Kuwait and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Motorama to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Sparks,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
Thompson Twins,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
10cc,
Iggy Pop,
Pulsallama,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Don Cherry,
Cymande,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
48th St. Collective,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Radiohead,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
Morten Harket,
Gabor Szabo,
Nas,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxy Music,
Matthew Bourne,
Yusef Lateef,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
Godley & Creme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
OOIOO,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.