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 Singapore and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Intrusion to the rock 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
the Slits,
Cheater Slicks,
the Germs,
DJ Sneak,
Aural Exciters,
Spoonie Gee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tim Buckley,
Fela Kuti,
Heaven 17,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nas,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacques Brel,
Visage,
The Real Kids,
Hasil Adkins,
The Neon Judgement,
Quando Quango,
The Fall,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Crash Course in Science,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Mojo Men,
Piero Umiliani,
Popol Vuh,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Cymande,
Wire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sex Pistols,
Flash Fearless,
Henry Cow,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Oneida,
Jeff Mills,
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Almond,
Ten City,
Average White Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Faust,
The Alarm Clocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Bang On A Can,
Gregory Isaacs,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.