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 Mali and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultra Naté to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Animal Collective,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Banda Bassotti,
Heaven 17,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Junior Murvin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joe Smooth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
Cymande,
Soulsonic Force,
Nas,
Rufus Thomas,
Fatback Band,
Anakelly,
World's Most,
Newcleus,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camouflage,
Joensuu 1685,
the Swans,
Josef K,
AZ,
Minor Threat,
OOIOO,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moody Blues,
The Victims,
Nico,
Au Pairs,
Severed Heads,
Yazoo,
Boz Scaggs,
Ituana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Babytalk,
Deadbeat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oneida,
Sound Behaviour,
Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cameo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Minny Pops,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rapeman,
Spandau Ballet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.