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 Moldova and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Saccharine Trust to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Pantytec,
Joensuu 1685,
Fear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Smoke,
Barrington Levy,
Country Teasers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
The Busters,
The Vogues,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Desert Stars,
Anakelly,
Neu!,
A Certain Ratio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
The Move,
Thee Headcoats,
DNA,
The Cramps,
In Retrospect,
Wasted Youth,
Dark Day,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angry Samoans,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
D'Angelo,
Minor Threat,
Jandek,
New Age Steppers,
Jawbox,
Marine Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Womack,
Chrome,
Radio Birdman,
Sandy B,
Eddi Front,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.