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 Uganda and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Davy DMX,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
Judy Mowatt,
Dave Gahan,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Machine,
Joey Negro,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
Matthew Bourne,
Pulsallama,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Man Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anakelly,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Danielle Patucci,
Bush Tetras,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Eating Sloth,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
Essential Logic,
the Normal,
The Young Rascals,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Black Dice,
Sound Behaviour,
The Tremeloes,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare,
Bauhaus,
Mandrill,
Pole,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
This Heat,
Metal Thangz,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
The Real Kids,
the Sonics,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.