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 Portugal and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA,
Maurizio,
Scratch Acid,
Malaria!,
Index,
Funky Four + One,
Lower 48,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
Darondo,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spoonie Gee,
Hashim,
Amon Düül,
T. Rex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
Ronan,
Goldenarms,
Sandy B,
Delta 5,
The Mummies,
Reagan Youth,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dirtbombs,
X-101,
E-Dancer,
Can,
Matthew Halsall,
Symarip,
Visage,
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
The Toasters,
The New Christs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Saints,
The Names,
June Days,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonic Youth,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Surgeon,
David Axelrod,
The Golliwogs,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bush Tetras,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Litter,
Niagra,
Magma,
The J.B.'s,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.