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 Cambodia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Hoover to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Whodini,
Circle Jerks,
OOIOO,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quantec,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Skarface,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
Gregory Isaacs,
CMW,
The New Christs,
Motorama,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fuzztones,
Joey Negro,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sister Nancy,
Severed Heads,
Harry Pussy,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lungfish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joyce Sims,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
Adolescents,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jawbox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Slave,
Sun Ra,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jandek,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.