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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Technova to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Janne Schatter,
Sugar Minott,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Alison Limerick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
Unwound,
Skaos,
Byron Stingily,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quando Quango,
Dave Gahan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Associates,
Ultra Naté,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Delta 5,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster,
Bluetip,
The Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Rosa Yemen,
Tim Buckley,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stetsasonic,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
Agitation Free,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Star Department,
E-Dancer,
Television Personalities,
Tom Boy,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Style,
Funky Four + One,
Franke,
The J.B.'s,
Jandek,
Sonic Youth,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.