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 Argentina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Glambeats Corp. to the disco 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
The Cure,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flipper,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camouflage,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erasure,
Don Cherry,
Average White Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Skatalites,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blake Baxter,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eddi Front,
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
Bob Dylan,
Stiv Bators,
D'Angelo,
Fugazi,
Faraquet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sixth Finger,
Dave Gahan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Litter,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
La Düsseldorf,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
ABBA,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
Scott Walker,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.