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 Namibia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Erykah Badu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Funkadelic,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
Minor Threat,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Scientists,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
Model 500,
Vladislav Delay,
The Trojans,
The Gories,
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
In Retrospect,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Techniques,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Lungfish,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yaz,
Rapeman,
T. Rex,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
Audionom,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cal Tjader,
Adolescents,
Ice-T,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fall,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
Ralphi Rosario,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Mills,
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joey Negro,
The Skatalites,
Harmonia,
Eric B and Rakim,
EPMD,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Make Up,
Fat Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.