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 Saudi Arabia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Blackbyrds,
Dennis Brown,
Pylon,
Scion,
Lyres,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
H. Thieme,
Japan,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young,
Fat Boys,
Wire,
Joe Finger,
Ultravox,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
T. Rex,
Niagra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hardrive,
Tommy Roe,
World's Most,
Oneida,
Lower 48,
Curtis Mayfield,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Morten Harket,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Groovy Waters,
Funkadelic,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
Cheater Slicks,
Sister Nancy,
Brick,
Joensuu 1685,
The Barracudas,
Cybotron,
The Mojo Men,
Sällskapet,
Janne Schatter,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kaleidoscope,
Nils Olav,
Gang Starr,
The Velvet Underground,
The Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.