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 Guinea-Bissau and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Joe Finger to the crunk 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Fuzztones,
Camberwell Now,
Radiohead,
Masters at Work,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Holt,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
The Index,
Joe Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Basic Channel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neu!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Index,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marvin Gaye,
Fluxion,
F. McDonald,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terry Callier,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scion,
L. Decosne,
Visage,
Barbara Tucker,
Carl Craig,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Davy DMX,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sugar Minott,
Accadde A,
A Certain Ratio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jacob Miller,
Crime,
Jawbox,
The Offenders,
Q and Not U,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Evens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.