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 Cambodia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Eden Ahbez to the electroclash 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Green,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Half Japanese,
Jawbox,
Rapeman,
The Litter,
Vainqueur,
The Trojans,
Visage,
The Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
Tears for Fears,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reuben Wilson,
Suburban Knight,
The Remains,
a-ha,
The Techniques,
Aswad,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Görl,
Masters at Work,
Motorama,
Sound Behaviour,
the Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Wells,
Mission of Burma,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.