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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Slick Rick to the grime 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Brass Construction,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nirvana,
Arcadia,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Shoche,
the Swans,
Hot Snakes,
Soulsonic Force,
Basic Channel,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Camouflage,
This Heat,
Mad Mike,
Tomorrow,
The Fortunes,
Adolescents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lightning Bolt,
Freddie Wadling,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
The Pop Group,
The Sound,
The Kinks,
CMW,
Organ,
Dave Gahan,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
Pylon,
The Modern Lovers,
Kerri Chandler,
Harry Pussy,
Agitation Free,
Lyres,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blancmange,
Andrew Hill,
Moby Grape,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rekid,
The Slits,
The Angels of Light,
Boogie Down Productions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Malaria!,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.