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 South Sudan and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Stooges to the dance 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 New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Idris Muhammad,
The Kinks,
Alice Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Marine Girls,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Anakelly,
Quando Quango,
ABC,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radio Birdman,
The Smoke,
The Pretty Things,
Sound Behaviour,
Nick Fraelich,
a-ha,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
The Doors,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hoover,
Mars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
The Star Department,
Scrapy,
The American Breed,
Grey Daturas,
Pylon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
David Axelrod,
Kurtis Blow,
Ponytail,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smiths,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Model 500,
Erasure,
Peter & Gordon,
Young Marble Giants,
Echospace,
Scott Walker,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.