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 Greece and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 The Neon Judgement to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Eden Ahbez,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bronski Beat,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Babytalk,
Tres Demented,
Harry Pussy,
The Standells,
Subhumans,
Dennis Brown,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mighty Diamonds,
10cc,
X-Ray Spex,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sound,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
The Wake,
Anakelly,
Bill Wells,
Gang of Four,
Marvin Gaye,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Sällskapet,
Grauzone,
The Vogues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Moon,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Erykah Badu,
Donald Byrd,
Cluster,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Slackers,
T. Rex,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dave Gahan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.