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 Kenya and from Mumbai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Amazonics to the techno 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Reagan Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dirtbombs,
the Association,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Tres Demented,
Todd Rundgren,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
Make Up,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
Soulsonic Force,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
This Heat,
Aswad,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
Steve Hackett,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
Pere Ubu,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
Scientists,
Warsaw,
The Searchers,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kas Product,
Wasted Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
James White and The Blacks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hoover,
Faust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bronski Beat,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
Ten City,
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.