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 Barbados and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The United States of America,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
Pharoah Sanders,
Unrelated Segments,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Subhumans,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Arcadia,
Intrusion,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
The Blackbyrds,
Michelle Simonal,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
Neu!,
The Moody Blues,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
David McCallum,
The Gun Club,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
Suburban Knight,
Pylon,
Lindisfarne,
Fluxion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
Magma,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cramps,
The Raincoats,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Vogues,
Prince Buster,
Ken Boothe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Unwound,
Todd Terry,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.