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 Samoa and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
The Names,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donny Hathaway,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
The Victims,
Quadrant,
Anthony Braxton,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zapp,
Pylon,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
China Crisis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skriet,
Excepter,
Q and Not U,
Dark Day,
Japan,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
Groovy Waters,
The Buckinghams,
ABBA,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun Ra,
Con Funk Shun,
cv313,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Delon & Dalcan,
E-Dancer,
The Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Marine Girls,
New Order,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Roy Ayers,
Sparks,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Y Pants,
ABC,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.