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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stiv Bators to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Charles Mingus,
Don Cherry,
David Bowie,
Scientists,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
Hardrive,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Hood,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Essential Logic,
New York Dolls,
Jerry's Kids,
Anthony Braxton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Underground Resistance,
The Doobie Brothers,
Negative Approach,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Flag,
Half Japanese,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tubeway Army,
Davy DMX,
Roxy Music,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Monks,
Bill Near,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dual Sessions,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
Roger Hodgson,
Skriet,
Second Layer,
It's A Beautiful Day,
UT,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas,
The Evens,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warren Ellis,
The Busters,
The Move,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.