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 Gabon and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Animal Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dead Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brick,
Zapp,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Bob Dylan,
Japan,
Tim Buckley,
Excepter,
Scan 7,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
The Misunderstood,
La Düsseldorf,
The Birthday Party,
Dark Day,
James White and The Blacks,
The Associates,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Max Romeo,
UT,
The Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
Urselle,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
The Barracudas,
Kerri Chandler,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Reed,
Eddi Front,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Janne Schatter,
CMW,
Goldenarms,
Moby Grape,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Bobby Womack,
X-101,
Soulsonic Force,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
D'Angelo,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Sandy B,
Nico,
Oblivians,
Jeff Mills,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.