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 St Lucia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tropical Tobacco to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
T. Rex,
Joensuu 1685,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Von Mondo,
John Holt,
Urselle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Dave Gahan,
Juan Atkins,
The Knickerbockers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
James White and The Blacks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Evens,
John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Human League,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Organ,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
Flash Fearless,
Scientists,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
Ultra Naté,
The Kinks,
Technova,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Chris Corsano,
PIL,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Womack,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Fat Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
The Divine Comedy,
Gichy Dan,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Clarke,
Radio Birdman,
Scan 7,
Qualms,
Albert Ayler,
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
The Red Krayola,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.