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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Smoke 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Prince Buster,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pop Group,
Yaz,
Ronan,
Depeche Mode,
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crash Course in Science,
The Last Poets,
Carl Craig,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tommy Roe,
Youth Brigade,
Cymande,
Rufus Thomas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerri Chandler,
Funkadelic,
Suicide,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Victims,
Nico,
Adolescents,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
Hoover,
Average White Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Basic Channel,
Tomorrow,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
AZ,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
One Last Wish,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arcadia,
Yellowson,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Qualms,
Arab on Radar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
F. McDonald,
the Sonics,
Grey Daturas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Graham Central Station,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.