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 Hungary and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Desert Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord 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 theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Shoche,
Scratch Acid,
Spandau Ballet,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
Smog,
Flipper,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Surgeon,
Lucky Dragons,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Ken Boothe,
Black Moon,
DJ Sneak,
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
Charles Mingus,
Lower 48,
Amazonics,
Camberwell Now,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
Crime,
Symarip,
New Order,
Bluetip,
Nick Fraelich,
Brand Nubian,
The Birthday Party,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sparks,
Unwound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
B.T. Express,
Amon Düül II,
Desert Stars,
DJ Style,
Country Teasers,
Davy DMX,
Urselle,
Half Japanese,
Arcadia,
Funkadelic,
The Gap Band,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Kas Product,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Mr. Review,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.