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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Marcia Griffiths to the jazz 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson 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?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Fraelich,
June Days,
Sarah Menescal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
KRS-One,
the Bar-Kays,
Janne Schatter,
Half Japanese,
Joe Finger,
Monolake,
The Sonics,
Swell Maps,
Gong,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Porter Ricks,
Magazine,
Wally Richardson,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
E-Dancer,
Eric Copeland,
Sam Rivers,
The Gladiators,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Mantronix,
Maurizio,
Max Romeo,
the Normal,
Joey Negro,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Althea and Donna,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thompson Twins,
Kayak,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
Marine Girls,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Slackers,
Liliput,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.