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 Iran and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the grunge 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
Sight & Sound,
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
Slave,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy Collins,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Altered Images,
Nas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
Mantronix,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nik Kershaw,
Khruangbin,
Siglo XX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
Crooked Eye,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Royal Trux,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
The Martian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Human League,
Boogie Down Productions,
Danielle Patucci,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
The United States of America,
Jeff Lynne,
Infiniti,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tim Buckley,
Fear,
Camberwell Now,
Tom Boy,
Alice Coltrane,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed,
The Young Rascals,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick May,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Iggy Pop,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.