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 Thailand and from London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 DJ Sneak 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Japan,
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Lydon,
Mad Mike,
Outsiders,
June Days,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Au Pairs,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Finger,
Television,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
Fat Boys,
Cameo,
Janne Schatter,
Sugar Minott,
Blossom Toes,
Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Pere Ubu,
Sister Nancy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Warren Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Little Man,
The Raincoats,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül II,
Hot Snakes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dead C,
Jawbox,
Bobby Womack,
Wings,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
Aaron Thompson,
Surgeon,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Faraquet,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
Dennis Brown,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.