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 Netherlands and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
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 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rap 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
Tres Demented,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Carl Craig,
Drexciya,
X-101,
Black Pus,
The Mummies,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suburban Knight,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
Donald Byrd,
The Standells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mandrill,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
Sam Rivers,
Jeru the Damaja,
FM Einheit,
Barry Ungar,
Newcleus,
Television,
The Monochrome Set,
Brass Construction,
The Martian,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays,
Index,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
Joe Smooth,
The Evens,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Mills,
Lower 48,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
The Leaves,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barclay James Harvest,
Goldenarms,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Halsall,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.