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 Nicaragua and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Livin' Joy to the electroclash 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
The Trojans,
Gang Starr,
Mandrill,
Graham Central Station,
The J.B.'s,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
the Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fire Engines,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
The Velvet Underground,
X-Ray Spex,
Audionom,
Vainqueur,
Absolute Body Control,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Zapp,
Lakeside,
David Bowie,
Royal Trux,
Camouflage,
Amazonics,
Fear,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dave Gahan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Laurel Aitken,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zero Boys,
Connie Case,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Iggy Pop,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sister Nancy,
Roger Hodgson,
Agitation Free,
Radiohead,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
Rapeman,
June of 44,
The Index,
Sparks,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.