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 Ghana and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Cowsills to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Freddie Wadling,
X-102,
Pagans,
Arab on Radar,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Gang Dance,
Echospace,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jandek,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
Nas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
PIL,
Hasil Adkins,
Reagan Youth,
Harmonia,
Albert Ayler,
Blossom Toes,
R.M.O.,
the Normal,
LL Cool J,
Sällskapet,
Goldenarms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neu!,
Black Pus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Derrick Morgan,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispy Ambulance,
Average White Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Joey Negro,
Slave,
Sparks,
The Velvet Underground,
Throbbing Gristle,
Silicon Teens,
Robert Görl,
Saccharine Trust,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Ken Boothe,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.