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 Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Circle Jerks to the electroclash 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Banda Bassotti,
Pere Ubu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rakim,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oneida,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
Das Ding,
Rites of Spring,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
Carl Craig,
Glenn Branca,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
The Modern Lovers,
Procol Harum,
Eddi Front,
Kayak,
Hot Snakes,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kaleidoscope,
Neu!,
Ossler,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Scan 7,
Jacob Miller,
Terry Callier,
The Cure,
Fela Kuti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
Morten Harket,
Dark Day,
Dawn Penn,
The J.B.'s,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.