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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 La Düsseldorf to the rock 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Delta 5,
UT,
Black Bananas,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pop Group,
Eve St. Jones,
Nico,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Smoke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Massinfluence,
Scan 7,
Surgeon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sister Nancy,
MC5,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Interpol,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Danielle Patucci,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
H. Thieme,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Los Fastidios,
Slave,
The Index,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Neon Judgement,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
The Five Americans,
Aural Exciters,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
The Smiths,
Alphaville,
Ponytail,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Echospace,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.