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 Ecuador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Glambeats Corp. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Parry Music,
Blake Baxter,
Janne Schatter,
Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
The Toasters,
Spandau Ballet,
Eve St. Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Magazine,
Black Flag,
Au Pairs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sister Nancy,
Brand Nubian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eden Ahbez,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
The Divine Comedy,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
Dark Day,
The Trojans,
Matthew Bourne,
Cameo,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Silicon Teens,
Jacob Miller,
a-ha,
Mars,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
Wolf Eyes,
Rekid,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
Pere Ubu,
Reagan Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
Wasted Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dawn Penn,
Scrapy,
Cheater Slicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Organ,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.