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 Guyana and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Green to the disco 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
Ten City,
Magazine,
Toni Rubio,
Technova,
The Leaves,
The Count Five,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
kango's stein massive,
Sonic Youth,
Das Ding,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cybotron,
Lucky Dragons,
Drexciya,
Popol Vuh,
Mr. Review,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Animal Collective,
F. McDonald,
Pierre Henry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Byrd,
Yaz,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
Television,
Q65,
Bizarre Inc.,
Public Enemy,
ABBA,
Quadrant,
The Detroit Cobras,
Maleditus Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Janne Schatter,
Newcleus,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Pylon,
Bob Dylan,
Rosa Yemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Motions,
Maurizio,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Icehouse,
Skaos,
June Days,
Pantytec,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.