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 Ivory Coast and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Erasure to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Khruangbin,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Accadde A,
Skriet,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Von Mondo,
MDC,
Yazoo,
Amon Düül II,
cv313,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harpers Bizarre,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
Deakin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
JFA,
The J.B.'s,
Todd Terry,
Masters at Work,
Gang Starr,
The Sound,
Surgeon,
Warsaw,
The Evens,
The Gap Band,
Lyres,
Dual Sessions,
Minutemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang On A Can,
Derrick Morgan,
The Music Machine,
The Toasters,
Crime,
Scrapy,
Youth Brigade,
Black Moon,
These Immortal Souls,
Warren Ellis,
The Gories,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.