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 Denmark and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Oneida,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
Lalann,
Model 500,
Vladislav Delay,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy Collins,
Quadrant,
Gang Starr,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Subhumans,
Organ,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Franke,
Reagan Youth,
The Barracudas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alton Ellis,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Evens,
Panda Bear,
Johnny Clarke,
Blancmange,
The Red Krayola,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harry Pussy,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Mills,
The Moleskins,
Davy DMX,
The Star Department,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cramps,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Procol Harum,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Howard Jones,
Negative Approach,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magazine,
Adolescents,
Joe Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.