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 Nicaragua and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Techniques to the rock 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks,
Graham Central Station,
The Searchers,
Patti Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
Maleditus Sound,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
Motorama,
the Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
Television Personalities,
Glenn Branca,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yaz,
Brass Construction,
Siglo XX,
Pere Ubu,
June of 44,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soulsonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
KRS-One,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Human League,
Ponytail,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül II,
Eddi Front,
Stetsasonic,
The Vogues,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
Moss Icon,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Second Layer,
Goldenarms,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sight & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moleskins,
Janne Schatter,
Flash Fearless,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.