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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rap 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Smiths,
the Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
PIL,
John Holt,
Organ,
In Retrospect,
D'Angelo,
Buzzcocks,
Motorama,
the Normal,
DJ Style,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Outsiders,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Osbourne,
Iggy Pop,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Icehouse,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
L. Decosne,
UT,
Clear Light,
Y Pants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pole,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
Severed Heads,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Prunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
EPMD,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Main Source,
Ultravox,
Eric Copeland,
Lakeside,
Matthew Bourne,
The Real Kids,
MDC,
Quantec,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.