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 Greece and from New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Bobby Byrd to the funk 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Goldenarms,
Rod Modell,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
D'Angelo,
Kayak,
Model 500,
Chris Corsano,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Silicon Teens,
Heaven 17,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Sight & Sound,
Ultravox,
The Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Ice-T,
The Five Americans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Surgeon,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joensuu 1685,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New York Dolls,
The Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Marine Girls,
The Names,
Bang On A Can,
JFA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Crime,
Zapp,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.