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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Bobby Womack to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
Absolute Body Control,
Marmalade,
Barbara Tucker,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Lyres,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Terry Callier,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Harpers Bizarre,
Can,
Connie Case,
Tubeway Army,
Joy Division,
OOIOO,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
Parry Music,
The Last Poets,
Drexciya,
Pantytec,
Heaven 17,
Joey Negro,
Q and Not U,
The Fuzztones,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Arab on Radar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Spandau Ballet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eurythmics,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter and Kerry,
Roxy Music,
The Moody Blues,
Lucky Dragons,
Ten City,
Icehouse,
Animal Collective,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.