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 Finland 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Graham Central Station to the electroclash 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Radiopuhelimet,
Zapp,
Mark Hollis,
Camouflage,
Inner City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slick Rick,
Matthew Bourne,
The Wake,
X-102,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
Pierre Henry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
The Slackers,
Make Up,
Crooked Eye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
Alton Ellis,
UT,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
Altered Images,
Adolescents,
Fluxion,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
Surgeon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Walker Brothers,
The Martian,
Animal Collective,
Robert Görl,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wire,
Faraquet,
The Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Idris Muhammad,
Neu!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Young Marble Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drexciya,
The Cowsills,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
Crime,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.