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 Ecuador and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Skatalites,
Unrelated Segments,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Shuggie Otis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sound Behaviour,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Sheep,
The Walker Brothers,
Darondo,
The Misunderstood,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Fear,
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
The Leaves,
Ronnie Foster,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nico,
Supertramp,
Soulsonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Masters at Work,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül,
Pantaleimon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minny Pops,
the Germs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
kango's stein massive,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
Boz Scaggs,
Grey Daturas,
Thee Headcoats,
Blake Baxter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bronski Beat,
Intrusion,
Todd Terry,
Erasure,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.