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 Slovakia and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum 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 Stockholm Monsters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
Glenn Branca,
Moss Icon,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
OOIOO,
Jawbox,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cymande,
F. McDonald,
K-Klass,
The Searchers,
Toni Rubio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Juan Atkins,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fall,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Sällskapet,
The Happenings,
Aswad,
Colin Newman,
Hashim,
Shoche,
Al Stewart,
Bill Near,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
Rufus Thomas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacques Brel,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus,
Fatback Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Talk Talk,
The Young Rascals,
The New Christs,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.