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 South Sudan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Soul II Soul to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Warsaw,
Hasil Adkins,
Pagans,
Fatback Band,
Carl Craig,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Monks,
Nico,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Television,
Marc Almond,
Chrome,
Alison Limerick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Easy Going,
Lou Christie,
Aaron Thompson,
This Heat,
Little Man,
Hardrive,
Popol Vuh,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oneida,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Byron Stingily,
Donny Hathaway,
Swans,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
Sarah Menescal,
the Normal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Parry Music,
Scion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
B.T. Express,
The Invisible,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yellowson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ponytail,
F. McDonald,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mars,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.