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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Fania All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Dennis Brown,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Martian,
Neil Young,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeff Lynne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sister Nancy,
The Residents,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alton Ellis,
Wire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
The Victims,
Royal Trux,
Ronnie Foster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronan,
Ludus,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roxette,
Chris & Cosey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Loose Ends,
Country Teasers,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Juan Atkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deepchord,
Stereo Dub,
Leonard Cohen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.