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 Cuba and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rites of Spring to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Scrapy,
Newcleus,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
Hoover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sister Nancy,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Rufus Thomas,
Blancmange,
Grauzone,
Young Marble Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camouflage,
Jacob Miller,
Accadde A,
Susan Cadogan,
The Golliwogs,
Roxy Music,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
The Techniques,
Idris Muhammad,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Michelle Simonal,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Yellowson,
John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kurtis Blow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grey Daturas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skriet,
Ornette Coleman,
The Busters,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gories,
Al Stewart,
This Heat,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.