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 Laos and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Gang of Four to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
Gong,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scientists,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
Motorama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Surgeon,
Nick Fraelich,
Shoche,
Oneida,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
Symarip,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
Ohio Players,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Smog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Khruangbin,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Absolute Body Control,
Harmonia,
The Searchers,
the Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronan,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Hood,
The Leaves,
Jeru the Damaja,
a-ha,
Avey Tare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Simply Red,
Joe Finger,
Whodini,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.