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 Maldives and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 The Young Rascals to the crunk 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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Camberwell Now,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
The Techniques,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
cv313,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Al Stewart,
Henry Cow,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Slick Rick,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
10cc,
The Slackers,
Joensuu 1685,
Tommy Roe,
Quantec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
Malaria!,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Sherman,
The United States of America,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Knickerbockers,
Joyce Sims,
Joy Division,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Ultravox,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
the Slits,
The Evens,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.