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 East Timor and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Bush Tetras to the funk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Age Steppers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Khruangbin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
Q65,
Public Image Ltd.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rakim,
Inner City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Peter & Gordon,
Sugar Minott,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
Zapp,
The Music Machine,
Warsaw,
Japan,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
These Immortal Souls,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sight & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
Franke,
Hardrive,
the Association,
Accadde A,
Tears for Fears,
Fatback Band,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.