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 Estonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Glenn Branca to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood 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?
K-Klass,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
H. Thieme,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Flamin' Groovies,
Make Up,
Juan Atkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxy Music,
Sound Behaviour,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Derrick May,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Young Marble Giants,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Easy Going,
Dennis Brown,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantaleimon,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
The Five Americans,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Shuggie Otis,
Japan,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
ABC,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Liliput,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Residents,
the Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Zapp,
David Axelrod,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.