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 Norway and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Stetsasonic,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vainqueur,
Pussy Galore,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Scientists,
8 Eyed Spy,
Young Marble Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Monolake,
John Holt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Carl Craig,
Lakeside,
The Mummies,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Joey Negro,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Donny Hathaway,
John Lydon,
The Smoke,
Gong,
John Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Scan 7,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fat Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül,
The Fall,
Tears for Fears,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
a-ha,
Ohio Players,
Zero Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
LL Cool J,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
D'Angelo,
Television,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.