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 Niger and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harry Pussy,
OOIOO,
Crooked Eye,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glenn Branca,
Rakim,
Lakeside,
Charles Mingus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Funkadelic,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
UT,
Lightning Bolt,
Deepchord,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
Michelle Simonal,
Bob Dylan,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Zeros,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mandrill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Little Man,
A Certain Ratio,
Index,
R.M.O.,
Warren Ellis,
Ornette Coleman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Lungfish,
The Misunderstood,
Susan Cadogan,
Eurythmics,
La Düsseldorf,
China Crisis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pagans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Neon Judgement,
Echospace,
John Foxx,
Fela Kuti,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.