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 East Timor and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Faust to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
The Invisible,
Todd Terry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Residents,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Kayak,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Godley & Creme,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Smiths,
Stiv Bators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sandy B,
Lower 48,
Man Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ludus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Lungfish,
Dual Sessions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scrapy,
Rod Modell,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nik Kershaw,
Josef K,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Urselle,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Danielle Patucci,
Skaos,
Bauhaus,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.