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 Kiribati and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
Outsiders,
kango's stein massive,
Zapp,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
Crash Course in Science,
This Heat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stereo Dub,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
Basic Channel,
Absolute Body Control,
Section 25,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Skatalites,
Delta 5,
The Mummies,
The Barracudas,
Babytalk,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
Rosa Yemen,
Chris & Cosey,
Niagra,
Audionom,
Aaron Thompson,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Cluster,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
Con Funk Shun,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fat Boys,
Fela Kuti,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.