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 Tunisia and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dawn Penn to the rock 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Green,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane,
the Slits,
Stetsasonic,
Smog,
Subhumans,
Thee Headcoats,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Terry,
Gichy Dan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Reuben Wilson,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
In Retrospect,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nik Kershaw,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Birthday Party,
Fatback Band,
Minutemen,
Index,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
Byron Stingily,
Metal Thangz,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
Cheater Slicks,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Flag,
Von Mondo,
China Crisis,
Lucky Dragons,
Eve St. Jones,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Q and Not U,
Can,
Nas,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Raincoats,
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.