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 Jamaica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Newcleus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Byron Stingily,
FM Einheit,
The American Breed,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Clear Light,
The Raincoats,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
The Busters,
Mission of Burma,
Tears for Fears,
The Walker Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
48th St. Collective,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Neu!,
Bill Wells,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
Eddi Front,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
Mars,
ABC,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Minor Threat,
Sugar Minott,
Popol Vuh,
The Sonics,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
the Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.