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 Gabon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the grime 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Remains,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jimmy McGriff,
Shoche,
the Germs,
Avey Tare,
Dark Day,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Fela Kuti,
the Swans,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gong,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yazoo,
Parry Music,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Slick Rick,
Man Parrish,
The Smiths,
Morten Harket,
Pantaleimon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shuggie Otis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minor Threat,
Oneida,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Vladislav Delay,
Flash Fearless,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
David Bowie,
Tubeway Army,
Lakeside,
Archie Shepp,
Carl Craig,
The Fugs,
Suicide,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.