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 Ukraine and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ohio Players to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Suburban Knight,
Howard Jones,
Monks,
Fatback Band,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
the Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Letta Mbulu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ossler,
John Cale,
Circle Jerks,
Blossom Toes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Heaven 17,
Tres Demented,
Alphaville,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter & Gordon,
Minny Pops,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Wells,
The Dave Clark Five,
Skriet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Happenings,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Joy Division,
Bob Dylan,
Youth Brigade,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light,
Brass Construction,
Grey Daturas,
Nico,
Ice-T,
Sonic Youth,
Technova,
Lucky Dragons,
Franke,
The Martian,
Rekid,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dead C,
The Invisible,
Andrew Hill,
Crime,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.