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 Luxembourg and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grime 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
David McCallum,
Slave,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül,
The Leaves,
Leonard Cohen,
Anthony Braxton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Soft Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Ludus,
Byron Stingily,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wasted Youth,
Swans,
The Cowsills,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Wake,
LL Cool J,
Black Moon,
Deadbeat,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Faraquet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
Jandek,
The Sound,
Prince Buster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Busters,
Crooked Eye,
Organ,
Surgeon,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Certain Ratio,
Blossom Toes,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
Agent Orange,
Steve Hackett,
D'Angelo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Bush Tetras,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.