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 Mexico and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sandy B to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Motorama,
Saccharine Trust,
Japan,
Aural Exciters,
Todd Rundgren,
Duran Duran,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Amazonics,
Von Mondo,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Intrusion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Audionom,
Franke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scientists,
B.T. Express,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delta 5,
Essential Logic,
Vladislav Delay,
The Real Kids,
David McCallum,
Flipper,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Technova,
Nation of Ulysses,
Q and Not U,
Radiohead,
Sister Nancy,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
DJ Style,
KRS-One,
Minny Pops,
The Tremeloes,
The Doors,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
L. Decosne,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
MC5,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Panda Bear,
The Divine Comedy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Move,
Scion,
The Gories,
Alice Coltrane,
The Toasters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.