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 Paraguay and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 Gil Scott Heron to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
Oneida,
Peter and Kerry,
Con Funk Shun,
Bauhaus,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers,
Pere Ubu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Monolake,
Stockholm Monsters,
Depeche Mode,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scan 7,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
Althea and Donna,
Youth Brigade,
Sällskapet,
T.S.O.L.,
Brand Nubian,
the Association,
LL Cool J,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Seeds,
Rotary Connection,
Alton Ellis,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
Faust,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Al Stewart,
Brick,
Stetsasonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.