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 Georgia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Procol Harum to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Trojans,
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Howard Jones,
Robert Görl,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
Urselle,
K-Klass,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Harmonia,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
X-Ray Spex,
Mission of Burma,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ten City,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
Lyres,
The Cramps,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
Yellowson,
Kaleidoscope,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Organ,
Blake Baxter,
T. Rex,
Zapp,
Godley & Creme,
Franke,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
Lindisfarne,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.