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 Barbados and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Mantronix to the jazz 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe 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 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Tres Demented,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
Inner City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Human League,
Jawbox,
Accadde A,
Faust,
In Retrospect,
Visage,
Q and Not U,
Nick Fraelich,
Thompson Twins,
Idris Muhammad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
H. Thieme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Make Up,
The Slits,
New Age Steppers,
John Holt,
Aloha Tigers,
Rosa Yemen,
Morten Harket,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bootsy Collins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oneida,
Duran Duran,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.