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 Tonga and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Moby Grape to the punk 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sonic Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Jawbox,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The J.B.'s,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
Derrick May,
Bill Near,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swans,
Blancmange,
Sun Ra,
Barbara Tucker,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minor Threat,
Basic Channel,
Flipper,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arthur Verocai,
Piero Umiliani,
Yusef Lateef,
Duran Duran,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers,
Harmonia,
David Bowie,
The Offenders,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
Organ,
Smog,
Barry Ungar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sight & Sound,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club,
Tim Buckley,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.