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 Micronesia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Carl Craig to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Rakim,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Machine,
Junior Murvin,
Ronan,
Lou Reed,
Kurtis Blow,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Funkadelic,
Rod Modell,
Tom Boy,
New Age Steppers,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mandrill,
The Gories,
OOIOO,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
MDC,
The Birthday Party,
The Fall,
X-101,
Hoover,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
Andrew Hill,
The Gladiators,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wings,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jawbox,
Groovy Waters,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Skatalites,
The Modern Lovers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
One Last Wish,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.