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 Comoros and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Happenings,
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
Brothers Johnson,
Flash Fearless,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Vogues,
Kerri Chandler,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
Intrusion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pylon,
X-101,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
H. Thieme,
Livin' Joy,
Sugar Minott,
Siglo XX,
Jawbox,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faust,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
World's Most,
Michelle Simonal,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Golliwogs,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cowsills,
Hardrive,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Saints,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
Wally Richardson,
Spandau Ballet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Rundgren,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.