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 United States and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Birthday Party to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Eurythmics,
Half Japanese,
Lindisfarne,
Pierre Henry,
Rosa Yemen,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul II Soul,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Glenn Branca,
Monolake,
the Human League,
Janne Schatter,
Negative Approach,
The Blues Magoos,
New Order,
Brass Construction,
Amazonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nirvana,
Hashim,
Black Sheep,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick Morgan,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
The Knickerbockers,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Cell,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Cameo,
One Last Wish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Clear Light,
Dennis Brown,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
Leonard Cohen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wire,
The Five Americans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Oblivians,
The Real Kids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cure,
Jerry's Kids,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.