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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Sisters of Mercy,
Suburban Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Accadde A,
Magma,
Ice-T,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
ABBA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
KRS-One,
The Gories,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slits,
Black Sheep,
Monks,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
The Names,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fortunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Parry Music,
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
Altered Images,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Josef K,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Panda Bear,
Morten Harket,
The Techniques,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Golliwogs,
Inner City,
Television Personalities,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.