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 Spain and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a theremin 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Barry Ungar,
The Selecter,
PIL,
Marshall Jefferson,
Graham Central Station,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Altered Images,
John Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacob Miller,
Fad Gadget,
Trumans Water,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Ohio Players,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Soft Machine,
the Association,
The Flesh Eaters,
Surgeon,
Roxy Music,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Albert Ayler,
Gang of Four,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Lungfish,
Faust,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
The Leaves,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.