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 Laos and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Oneida to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Intrusion,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sound Behaviour,
Ten City,
Rakim,
The Litter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Unrelated Segments,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
Black Flag,
Cheater Slicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aswad,
Stereo Dub,
The Happenings,
Technova,
Mandrill,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Second Layer,
D'Angelo,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
Black Pus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
The Martian,
Robert Hood,
Parry Music,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
Royal Trux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
K-Klass,
The Shadows of Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kas Product,
L. Decosne,
Aloha Tigers,
Nico,
Crime,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.