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 Grenada and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Grass Roots,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wings,
The Victims,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter and Kerry,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Blossom Toes,
Skriet,
Masters at Work,
Essential Logic,
Duran Duran,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill,
The Wake,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Steve Hackett,
Josef K,
The Birthday Party,
Sun Ra,
The Walker Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Excepter,
Motorama,
Arthur Verocai,
Ten City,
The Fugs,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fortunes,
Warsaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Surgeon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
Rekid,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
Japan,
Mars,
The Pop Group,
Judy Mowatt,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.