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 Lesotho and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Dave Clark Five to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Moebius,
The Monochrome Set,
The Monks,
Barry Ungar,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
Fluxion,
The Zeros,
Wolf Eyes,
The Pretty Things,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
X-102,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Au Pairs,
Amazonics,
Flash Fearless,
Skriet,
The Black Dice,
Model 500,
Deepchord,
Michelle Simonal,
In Retrospect,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Doors,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
Camouflage,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Skaos,
Scrapy,
Gong,
PIL,
Accadde A,
Public Enemy,
Robert Görl,
Jandek,
Leonard Cohen,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
kango's stein massive,
Surgeon,
X-101,
Masters at Work,
The Vogues,
The Red Krayola,
Monolake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
The Mojo Men,
Rufus Thomas,
Make Up,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.