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 Vietnam and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 LL Cool J to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Bobby Womack,
Urselle,
Byron Stingily,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flash Fearless,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Moebius,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Visage,
the Association,
The Kinks,
Skaos,
Neil Young,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
The Sonics,
Ultra Naté,
Barrington Levy,
The Cowsills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Al Stewart,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Quantec,
ABBA,
Magma,
John Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Tres Demented,
Tim Buckley,
Spoonie Gee,
kango's stein massive,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Chris Corsano,
Buzzcocks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Görl,
The Saints,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column,
Suicide,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.