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 Mongolia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Q and Not U,
Simply Red,
Mandrill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soul Sonic Force,
Saccharine Trust,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
Silicon Teens,
Matthew Bourne,
the Swans,
Marc Almond,
Alison Limerick,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
The Gories,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
Sällskapet,
Marvin Gaye,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Human League,
Y Pants,
The Walker Brothers,
The Trojans,
Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Subhumans,
The Sound,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Copeland,
Rosa Yemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.