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 Armenia and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thee Headcoats,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Moss Icon,
Gichy Dan,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Starr,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Normal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Selecter,
U.S. Maple,
Hardrive,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick Morgan,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
Das Ding,
Whodini,
Kas Product,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra,
This Heat,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Youth Brigade,
The Mummies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bluetip,
Sällskapet,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arab on Radar,
Little Man,
Pierre Henry,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Motorama,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.