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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grime 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Marine Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
Liliput,
The Cure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
Au Pairs,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Sneak,
the Sonics,
Warsaw,
Slave,
Surgeon,
Barry Ungar,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Machine,
Easy Going,
Gabor Szabo,
Yusef Lateef,
Suicide,
Adolescents,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mummies,
Skriet,
Deakin,
Cheater Slicks,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
The Blackbyrds,
John Holt,
Main Source,
the Normal,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
DNA,
the Slits,
Fatback Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
The Sonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Second Layer,
Pantaleimon,
Outsiders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Carl Craig,
The Detroit Cobras,
Laurel Aitken,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.