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 United States and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Almond to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe 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 spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Television,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
Pulsallama,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Leonard Cohen,
Piero Umiliani,
Visage,
Colin Newman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mission of Burma,
Symarip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Jandek,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mr. Review,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Holt,
The Blackbyrds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pere Ubu,
Prince Buster,
Tears for Fears,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Blancmange,
Excepter,
The Knickerbockers,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Erykah Badu,
Kas Product,
The Buckinghams,
Rosa Yemen,
Sister Nancy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amazonics,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Whodini,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.