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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Index to the rap 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Yaz,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Barrington Levy,
Siglo XX,
Bang On A Can,
Maleditus Sound,
The Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marine Girls,
The Move,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Smog,
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Skarface,
DNA,
Radio Birdman,
OOIOO,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
Masters at Work,
Intrusion,
Deepchord,
Josef K,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
EPMD,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Skaos,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
The Motions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New Order,
The Residents,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Sheep,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
Grauzone,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalann,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.