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 Papua New Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the electroclash 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Funky Four + One,
Massinfluence,
Minutemen,
Lungfish,
Sarah Menescal,
X-Ray Spex,
Faraquet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
Grey Daturas,
Rotary Connection,
Hasil Adkins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacob Miller,
The United States of America,
Zero Boys,
Hashim,
Ten City,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
The Walker Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Gabor Szabo,
Oblivians,
Sixth Finger,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers,
Anthony Braxton,
Pagans,
Adolescents,
Skarface,
The Raincoats,
Whodini,
Das Ding,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Von Mondo,
Black Flag,
Dead Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
Avey Tare,
David McCallum,
Brick,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.