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 Ukraine and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Severed Heads,
Trumans Water,
Organ,
The Divine Comedy,
Schoolly D,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Michelle Simonal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ken Boothe,
Joy Division,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dave Clark Five,
Urselle,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Au Pairs,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Teasers,
The Stooges,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
Adolescents,
The Evens,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Cybotron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Newcleus,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
The Barracudas,
Don Cherry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Kayak,
Glambeats Corp.,
Khruangbin,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Flag,
Drive Like Jehu,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers,
Magazine,
Eric Copeland,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.