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 Benin and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Pylon,
Arcadia,
John Holt,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Goldenarms,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
One Last Wish,
Kas Product,
Lindisfarne,
Roger Hodgson,
The Vogues,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
The Five Americans,
Kenny Larkin,
June Days,
Aaron Thompson,
Joe Smooth,
Flash Fearless,
The Durutti Column,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
The Move,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
Soul II Soul,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radiohead,
Black Pus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
Josef K,
the Association,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
Depeche Mode,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cowsills,
Oneida,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.