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 China and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes 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 a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terry Callier,
Lou Christie,
FM Einheit,
Nick Fraelich,
Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Isaac Hayes,
Darondo,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Young Marble Giants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cure,
MDC,
Motorama,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Dolphy,
Bluetip,
H. Thieme,
Rites of Spring,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
Smog,
John Lydon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
PIL,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
the Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Deepchord,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Organ,
Audionom,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter and Kerry,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy Collins,
John Holt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Model 500,
Siglo XX,
The Evens,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
Banda Bassotti,
Bush Tetras,
Lucky Dragons,
Kaleidoscope,
David Bowie,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.