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 Czech Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 the Bar-Kays to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Qualms,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Soul II Soul,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Byrd,
Ronnie Foster,
KRS-One,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Toni Rubio,
John Cale,
Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Invisible,
Adolescents,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Rekid,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris & Cosey,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare,
Cluster,
The Velvet Underground,
Maleditus Sound,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
Jacob Miller,
Royal Trux,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fuzztones,
Q65,
The Raincoats,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
Metal Thangz,
The Vogues,
The Happenings,
Supertramp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Index,
Television Personalities,
The Litter,
Gong,
Talk Talk,
Kerri Chandler,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.