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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Reagan Youth to the rap 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Robert Wyatt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
Kas Product,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
Jacob Miller,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Parry Music,
The Fugs,
D'Angelo,
Gang Green,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Zeros,
John Holt,
Bronski Beat,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Hot Snakes,
The Searchers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Pere Ubu,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang On A Can,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gladiators,
The Motions,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Residents,
Crime,
Donald Byrd,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lungfish,
Sun City Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Piero Umiliani,
Hoover,
Country Teasers,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.