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 Andorra and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Smoke to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Fuzztones,
48th St. Collective,
Ponytail,
Davy DMX,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Radiohead,
Echospace,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
X-102,
Buzzcocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Erykah Badu,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lakeside,
R.M.O.,
Qualms,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tears for Fears,
Camouflage,
Alton Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Standells,
Brass Construction,
Eli Mardock,
The Sound,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
Crooked Eye,
The Pretty Things,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Rundgren,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mummies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.