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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Beau Brummels to the rap 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style 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?
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Can,
Blake Baxter,
Japan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Adolescents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arcadia,
Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Deepchord,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Crime,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Knickerbockers,
Gabor Szabo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Los Fastidios,
Soul Sonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Babytalk,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Agitation Free,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
The Slits,
The Slackers,
Brothers Johnson,
Niagra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Smog,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.