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 Tanzania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Trumans Water to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Bill Near,
Dorothy Ashby,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
Piero Umiliani,
Susan Cadogan,
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Zero Boys,
Kas Product,
Mars,
Arcadia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fall,
Faust,
Roxette,
Rotary Connection,
Talk Talk,
Saccharine Trust,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Altered Images,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Davy DMX,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Lower 48,
Jandek,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Prunes,
Ossler,
FM Einheit,
Brand Nubian,
The Saints,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
Pantaleimon,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
Ornette Coleman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Starr,
James White and The Blacks,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.