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 Zambia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Goldenarms,
Can,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris Corsano,
Sugar Minott,
The Modern Lovers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
Little Man,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Subhumans,
Ultra Naté,
Ossler,
MDC,
The Remains,
Lee Hazlewood,
Qualms,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David Axelrod,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moebius,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minny Pops,
the Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cramps,
Wire,
Tommy Roe,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
Pylon,
Franke,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Bootsy Collins,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.