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 Cameroon and from London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the crunk 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Matthew Halsall,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kayak,
Camouflage,
Guru Guru,
The Smiths,
Black Sheep,
Niagra,
Patti Smith,
Hashim,
MC5,
The Offenders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amon Düül II,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
Oblivians,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erasure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Depeche Mode,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liliput,
Donny Hathaway,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Scion,
Quadrant,
Fat Boys,
Boredoms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Groovy Waters,
Arab on Radar,
X-101,
Alison Limerick,
Shuggie Otis,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Clarke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erykah Badu,
New Order,
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
Brothers Johnson,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.