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 Malta and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rod Modell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dead C,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dead Boys,
Goldenarms,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
Blossom Toes,
Technova,
Outsiders,
The Angels of Light,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Second Layer,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker,
June Days,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
John Foxx,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Tomorrow,
Bill Near,
The Sonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jacques Brel,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Finger,
Qualms,
Lalann,
a-ha,
Kenny Larkin,
Newcleus,
Erykah Badu,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
Jandek,
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Enemy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Infiniti,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.