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 Haiti and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donny Hathaway to the funk 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 organ and a theremin 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 snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Althea and Donna,
Ken Boothe,
Amazonics,
Arcadia,
Japan,
The Slits,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
The Move,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
L. Decosne,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Gichy Dan,
Little Man,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
Pere Ubu,
T.S.O.L.,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
The Stooges,
Boredoms,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
R.M.O.,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Supertramp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Selecter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
cv313,
June of 44,
Masters at Work,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.