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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 MC5 to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
Mantronix,
The Dirtbombs,
Television Personalities,
The Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Smog,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang of Four,
Agitation Free,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
Black Bananas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Susan Cadogan,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
Das Ding,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
June of 44,
Monks,
The Offenders,
Buzzcocks,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
Oblivians,
The Searchers,
DNA,
ABBA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
Al Stewart,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.