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 New Zealand and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the funk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Dead C,
Bobby Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
X-101,
China Crisis,
The Walker Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Surgeon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donny Hathaway,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
The Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deepchord,
Funky Four + One,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerrie Biddell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marine Girls,
Ken Boothe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacob Miller,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roxy Music,
Circle Jerks,
Talk Talk,
EPMD,
Television,
The Modern Lovers,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Glenn Branca,
Alison Limerick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Simply Red,
Hoover,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Ronan,
Pylon,
Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Faraquet,
Eric Dolphy,
Essential Logic,
Malaria!,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.