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 Swaziland and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Red Krayola to the dance 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Human League,
Zapp,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronan,
Crash Course in Science,
The New Christs,
Harmonia,
Traffic Nightmare,
48th St. Collective,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nas,
Easy Going,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roger Hodgson,
Moebius,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ohio Players,
The Red Krayola,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Prince Buster,
Robert Wyatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Associates,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
Slick Rick,
Joey Negro,
Rakim,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Star Department,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sugar Minott,
Agitation Free,
X-101,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Porter Ricks,
Black Bananas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Main Source,
the Germs,
Albert Ayler,
Sandy B,
Surgeon,
Johnny Clarke,
Davy DMX,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.