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 Macedonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Groovy Waters to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eve St. Jones,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Massinfluence,
Iggy Pop,
Nils Olav,
The Wake,
The Grass Roots,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Soft Cell,
Index,
Agent Orange,
Organ,
Barbara Tucker,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
The Last Poets,
Jawbox,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
The Blues Magoos,
Joe Finger,
Joey Negro,
David Axelrod,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Graham Central Station,
Animal Collective,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yellowson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funky Four + One,
Anthony Braxton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Intrusion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Negative Approach,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lakeside,
MC5,
Eddi Front,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.