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 Mauritania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Black Pus to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Ossler,
Ten City,
Sex Pistols,
Funkadelic,
The Smoke,
Don Cherry,
Can,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Hood,
Al Stewart,
Joy Division,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Guru Guru,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Trojans,
Barrington Levy,
DNA,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
China Crisis,
kango's stein massive,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Finger,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Detroit Cobras,
This Heat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
Flipper,
10cc,
Boz Scaggs,
Make Up,
Jacques Brel,
Newcleus,
Crash Course in Science,
Fad Gadget,
New Age Steppers,
Rekid,
Ponytail,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chrome,
Tubeway Army,
The Blues Magoos,
The Zeros,
Stereo Dub,
Outsiders,
KRS-One,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barbara Tucker,
Liliput,
The Mojo Men,
Country Teasers,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.