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 Madagascar and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Animal Collective to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Aaron Thompson,
Tears for Fears,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Seeds,
Davy DMX,
Joyce Sims,
Byron Stingily,
D'Angelo,
Aloha Tigers,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
Symarip,
Liliput,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
Yazoo,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sonics,
Boredoms,
The Walker Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Black Pus,
Max Romeo,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Icehouse,
Alton Ellis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Smog,
Dead Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Nas,
Arab on Radar,
the Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül,
The Index,
Quantec,
Country Teasers,
Basic Channel,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.