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 Angola and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Anthony Braxton to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Shoche,
Matthew Halsall,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Negative Approach,
Pylon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Circle Jerks,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Unrelated Segments,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minutemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hoover,
the Association,
Roger Hodgson,
Bauhaus,
AZ,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül,
Carl Craig,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül II,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Von Mondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-Ray Spex,
The Knickerbockers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Five Americans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Fraelich,
Lindisfarne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Skriet,
Section 25,
Anakelly,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
The Divine Comedy,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.