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 Maldives and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Sex Pistols to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare,
Unwound,
The Barracudas,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Wake,
Minny Pops,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mars,
The Invisible,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
Swell Maps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DNA,
Procol Harum,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
Index,
Black Flag,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
Bill Near,
The Alarm Clocks,
R.M.O.,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joy Division,
Simply Red,
Visage,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gabor Szabo,
Janne Schatter,
Franke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Ten City,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
David Bowie,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.