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 Kyrgyzstan 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fatback Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Khruangbin,
Qualms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Count Five,
Reagan Youth,
This Heat,
Essential Logic,
The Searchers,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Danielle Patucci,
Amon Düül II,
Minnie Riperton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
Judy Mowatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alice Coltrane,
The Names,
Swans,
The United States of America,
Dawn Penn,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Dolphy,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Magma,
The Trojans,
Section 25,
Josef K,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
JFA,
The Fugs,
The Smiths,
Andrew Hill,
X-102,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.