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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Pulsallama,
Henry Cow,
Sex Pistols,
Babytalk,
Derrick May,
The Red Krayola,
Sam Rivers,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
Desert Stars,
Model 500,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Arcadia,
Royal Trux,
Ludus,
The Searchers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
Wire,
Eurythmics,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Jandek,
Little Man,
Amon Düül II,
UT,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Hot Snakes,
Quando Quango,
New Order,
Swell Maps,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
Mad Mike,
Negative Approach,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smoke,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.