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 Greece and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Kerri Chandler to the rap 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Liliput,
Chrome,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Carl Craig,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suicide,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vladislav Delay,
Deakin,
D'Angelo,
Radiohead,
Wasted Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
Dawn Penn,
Agent Orange,
Moby Grape,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
Can,
Aural Exciters,
The Divine Comedy,
Negative Approach,
Loose Ends,
Hasil Adkins,
AZ,
Silicon Teens,
Faraquet,
UT,
A Certain Ratio,
Dennis Brown,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
Unrelated Segments,
The Searchers,
Godley & Creme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
Heaven 17,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neu!,
Crime,
Lungfish,
Brand Nubian,
Marine Girls,
Blake Baxter,
The Zeros,
Matthew Bourne,
X-101,
The Count Five,
DNA,
PIL,
Joensuu 1685,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.