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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 Cal Tjader to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Bad Manners,
Groovy Waters,
Danielle Patucci,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deadbeat,
Jandek,
Sarah Menescal,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nick Fraelich,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
MDC,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blake Baxter,
Cybotron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxette,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
In Retrospect,
Pole,
Aaron Thompson,
Shoche,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Ronan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Skriet,
The Monks,
Wire,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
Agitation Free,
Godley & Creme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pantytec,
Crooked Eye,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
Curtis Mayfield,
Animal Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
X-101,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Amon Düül,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Von Mondo,
China Crisis,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.