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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 EPMD to the techno 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Connie Case,
Funkadelic,
Minnie Riperton,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sam Rivers,
Second Layer,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Country Teasers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sällskapet,
The Doobie Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
cv313,
Schoolly D,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barbara Tucker,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blackbyrds,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Starr,
Severed Heads,
Eden Ahbez,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
ABC,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
Sandy B,
The Kinks,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
Au Pairs,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wings,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Livin' Joy,
Dead Boys,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.