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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tears for Fears to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ludus,
June of 44,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps,
Bauhaus,
Zero Boys,
Radiohead,
Popol Vuh,
Rakim,
Los Fastidios,
Unrelated Segments,
Lou Reed,
The Dirtbombs,
Angry Samoans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Angels of Light,
Jandek,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers,
Carl Craig,
The Residents,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
Glenn Branca,
Saccharine Trust,
Howard Jones,
Oneida,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
Piero Umiliani,
Flipper,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Sneak,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.