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 Algeria and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Christie to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Electric Prunes,
Model 500,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Procol Harum,
Crime,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44,
kango's stein massive,
Don Cherry,
the Slits,
Cluster,
The Angels of Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rekid,
Jerry's Kids,
The Saints,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Hill,
The Real Kids,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
Nils Olav,
UT,
Lungfish,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
Iggy Pop,
Scientists,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Rundgren,
U.S. Maple,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minutemen,
Jeff Mills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Niagra,
Hot Snakes,
Sex Pistols,
cv313,
Visage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.