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 Tanzania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mandrill to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
New Order,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultravox,
Nils Olav,
Visage,
Angry Samoans,
the Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
Donald Byrd,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
The Wake,
The United States of America,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harry Pussy,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
CMW,
Rites of Spring,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Neu!,
Aural Exciters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronan,
Minny Pops,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
Dark Day,
Motorama,
The Move,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
New York Dolls,
Index,
the Association,
Au Pairs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aloha Tigers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Christie,
These Immortal Souls,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
Nico,
Tomorrow,
Ossler,
Blossom Toes,
48th St. Collective,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.