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 Barbados and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Ludus to the punk 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Animal Collective,
The Star Department,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dave Gahan,
Erykah Badu,
Skriet,
Boogie Down Productions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rosa Yemen,
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
Black Sheep,
Joyce Sims,
Main Source,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül,
Sandy B,
Echospace,
The Dead C,
Liliput,
Fad Gadget,
The Black Dice,
Funky Four + One,
ABC,
Harpers Bizarre,
Theoretical Girls,
Hardrive,
Popol Vuh,
Arab on Radar,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
Ossler,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Supertramp,
Pole,
Khruangbin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Surgeon,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
Lungfish,
DNA,
Kenny Larkin,
Mantronix,
Todd Terry,
Lalann,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
48th St. Collective,
Technova,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.