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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Modern Lovers to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Joey Negro,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Stooges,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Music Machine,
The Busters,
Monolake,
Juan Atkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Residents,
Television,
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spoonie Gee,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
The Fall,
Sällskapet,
Das Ding,
FM Einheit,
John Holt,
Todd Terry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tom Boy,
OOIOO,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Drexciya,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Los Fastidios,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25,
The Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ornette Coleman,
Mr. Review,
Rufus Thomas,
Circle Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
The Dead C,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.