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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Joyce Sims,
The Saints,
Black Flag,
the Bar-Kays,
CMW,
Soft Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glambeats Corp.,
June of 44,
The Gladiators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Niagra,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Deadbeat,
Colin Newman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Near,
Wire,
Lalann,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
Maleditus Sound,
Eurythmics,
Von Mondo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Qualms,
The Vogues,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
a-ha,
Morten Harket,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
Simply Red,
Scion,
Newcleus,
Zero Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bill Wells,
Visage,
Khruangbin,
David McCallum,
Drexciya,
Mars,
Heaven 17,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang of Four,
Pantytec,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare,
The Star Department,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.