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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
Angry Samoans,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
Minor Threat,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
Yusef Lateef,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeru the Damaja,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Altered Images,
Delon & Dalcan,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Ten City,
Reuben Wilson,
Skaos,
Magma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Busters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
10cc,
Todd Terry,
Gang of Four,
Niagra,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Martian,
Sound Behaviour,
Aswad,
Au Pairs,
The Gun Club,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.