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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 MDC to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Model 500,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Au Pairs,
The Index,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Star Department,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Hood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
The Detroit Cobras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Q and Not U,
Erykah Badu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Moby Grape,
Blake Baxter,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Carl Craig,
New Age Steppers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Fatback Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
Gong,
Matthew Bourne,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül II,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eve St. Jones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
The Buckinghams,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.