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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Mission of Burma to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Black Sheep,
Thee Headcoats,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
Toni Rubio,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gories,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
MC5,
Derrick May,
Tomorrow,
Peter and Kerry,
Banda Bassotti,
Rufus Thomas,
The Barracudas,
The New Christs,
Wolf Eyes,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Divine Comedy,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Wake,
Todd Terry,
Blossom Toes,
E-Dancer,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Sällskapet,
In Retrospect,
The Dead C,
D'Angelo,
The Human League,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
Ohio Players,
The Golliwogs,
Country Teasers,
A Certain Ratio,
JFA,
Cal Tjader,
Marshall Jefferson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.