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 Niger and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fire Engines to the crunk 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxy Music,
Inner City,
Robert Görl,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
Soul II Soul,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tubeway Army,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
David Axelrod,
Wally Richardson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
Suburban Knight,
Animal Collective,
In Retrospect,
Peter & Gordon,
the Germs,
the Association,
Sixth Finger,
Scratch Acid,
The Gun Club,
Toni Rubio,
Neil Young,
Crooked Eye,
Marshall Jefferson,
Babytalk,
Harry Pussy,
Moebius,
Easy Going,
Iggy Pop,
The Leaves,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Funkadelic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mummies,
Todd Terry,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.