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 Gambia and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Sight & Sound,
Skarface,
Urselle,
Franke,
Smog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camouflage,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Junior Murvin,
Harry Pussy,
Moby Grape,
Glambeats Corp.,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
New Age Steppers,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arcadia,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gabor Szabo,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brass Construction,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Groovy Waters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
Underground Resistance,
Echospace,
The Fugs,
Agitation Free,
Ten City,
Organ,
Icehouse,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lucky Dragons,
Gichy Dan,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.