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 Taiwan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Hasil Adkins 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Cameo,
K-Klass,
Dead Boys,
The Move,
Das Ding,
Ronan,
Byron Stingily,
The Slackers,
Oblivians,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Hill,
Surgeon,
Siglo XX,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flash Fearless,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Kenny Larkin,
Neu!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Starr,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hashim,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
the Swans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Altered Images,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Technova,
X-102,
Brass Construction,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
Symarip,
The Residents,
Electric Light Orchestra,
E-Dancer,
Blossom Toes,
Josef K,
The Associates,
John Holt,
Barry Ungar,
Mo-Dettes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Don Cherry,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fortunes,
DJ Style,
This Heat,
Sällskapet,
Darondo,
Lightning Bolt,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.