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 Lithuania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the grunge 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
Ronnie Foster,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Rod Modell,
Erykah Badu,
Ituana,
Rekid,
Sunsets and Hearts,
L. Decosne,
Pole,
Absolute Body Control,
Bootsy Collins,
MC5,
Whodini,
Sarah Menescal,
Lucky Dragons,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
The Cowsills,
The Human League,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Don Cherry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Nirvana,
The Five Americans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sonics,
The Smoke,
Eve St. Jones,
The J.B.'s,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
Judy Mowatt,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Tom Boy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Inner City,
Goldenarms,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
The Gun Club,
A Certain Ratio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Josef K,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.