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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Surgeon to the disco 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Eden Ahbez,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
Television Personalities,
Marmalade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Massinfluence,
Organ,
The Litter,
Slick Rick,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ossler,
Index,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs,
Swans,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sixth Finger,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Trumans Water,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalo Schifrin,
F. McDonald,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Gong,
Crooked Eye,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mummies,
The Gladiators,
Flipper,
Guru Guru,
Patti Smith,
Porter Ricks,
Chris & Cosey,
Jesper Dahlback,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DJ Sneak,
Laurel Aitken,
Sexual Harrassment,
Underground Resistance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.