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 Ethiopia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Kenny Larkin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Arcadia,
Fugazi,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
New York Dolls,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Alton Ellis,
the Germs,
JFA,
Country Teasers,
Dave Gahan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
The Misunderstood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cluster,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Rites of Spring,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Babytalk,
Yellowson,
Byron Stingily,
The Evens,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Searchers,
a-ha,
Magma,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Angels of Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Minutemen,
Model 500,
Franke,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
LL Cool J,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
Camberwell Now,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fatback Band,
Cameo,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
Animal Collective,
K-Klass,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.