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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Minnie Riperton,
Camouflage,
The Beau Brummels,
Cameo,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
Rosa Yemen,
Clear Light,
Public Enemy,
Babytalk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Groovy Waters,
The Names,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
Erykah Badu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Soft Machine,
Japan,
Piero Umiliani,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Shuggie Otis,
The Modern Lovers,
Warsaw,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Dave Gahan,
The Raincoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jimmy McGriff,
Matthew Bourne,
Technova,
Y Pants,
Nik Kershaw,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers,
Lyres,
The J.B.'s,
The Fortunes,
Khruangbin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
Quando Quango,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.