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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Glenn Branca 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Carl Craig,
Piero Umiliani,
Young Marble Giants,
Kevin Saunderson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Enemy,
Black Flag,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Kaleidoscope,
Livin' Joy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Human League,
a-ha,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swell Maps,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tim Buckley,
The Cure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Warren Ellis,
The Knickerbockers,
These Immortal Souls,
Underground Resistance,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Byrd,
Tom Boy,
Magazine,
Bauhaus,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Panda Bear,
The Sonics,
Rakim,
UT,
Rites of Spring,
Sonic Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Starr,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
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.