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 Brazil and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantaleimon,
Camberwell Now,
New Order,
Bill Wells,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Wire,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
The Leaves,
Skarface,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
World's Most,
Soulsonic Force,
Fugazi,
T.S.O.L.,
Monks,
Inner City,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Don Cherry,
Masters at Work,
Ten City,
Ponytail,
Altered Images,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slackers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gladiators,
Qualms,
Malaria!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Green,
The Offenders,
Desert Stars,
The Mummies,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roxy Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zapp,
Jeff Mills,
Nirvana,
The Dave Clark Five,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.