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 Bahrain and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Public Enemy,
R.M.O.,
Robert Görl,
Echospace,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Bronski Beat,
The Angels of Light,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amazonics,
Dennis Brown,
Gong,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quadrant,
K-Klass,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Jeff Lynne,
Neu!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Chris & Cosey,
Nils Olav,
The Wake,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Chrome,
Leonard Cohen,
Technova,
The Gap Band,
Television Personalities,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fortunes,
Bob Dylan,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Letta Mbulu,
New York Dolls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Graham Central Station,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
Gang Starr,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.