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 Estonia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Hashim,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Arab on Radar,
Althea and Donna,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
OOIOO,
Funky Four + One,
Sex Pistols,
Aural Exciters,
Mission of Burma,
Alison Limerick,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Pussy Galore,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Marvin Gaye,
Livin' Joy,
the Human League,
The Birthday Party,
Isaac Hayes,
Cymande,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
The Moleskins,
Steve Hackett,
Dead Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Thee Headcoats,
Kas Product,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chrome,
Shuggie Otis,
Roger Hodgson,
Maurizio,
June Days,
Nik Kershaw,
Minor Threat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeff Mills,
Ultra Naté,
The Gories,
Pantytec,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.