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 Liberia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
D'Angelo,
Desert Stars,
cv313,
Marine Girls,
Oblivians,
MDC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
John Cale,
Fatback Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
10cc,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
Monks,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
Maurizio,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
The Busters,
Make Up,
Hardrive,
Sugar Minott,
Letta Mbulu,
Cameo,
Blossom Toes,
Ludus,
Gang Green,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
The Raincoats,
Joensuu 1685,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Oneida,
Eden Ahbez,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy,
David Bowie,
David Axelrod,
K-Klass,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.