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 Niger and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Cowsills to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 marimba and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
LL Cool J,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Whodini,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
Pussy Galore,
Wings,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers,
Danielle Patucci,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Quantec,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Y Pants,
Black Pus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ituana,
Magma,
Rekid,
Tubeway Army,
Smog,
The Vogues,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Sugar Minott,
the Normal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ohio Players,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Unwound,
Unrelated Segments,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Joy Division,
Kurtis Blow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Rod Modell,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.