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 Nicaragua and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz 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?
The Litter,
Fluxion,
New York Dolls,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Curtis Mayfield,
Carl Craig,
Q65,
Lalo Schifrin,
Porter Ricks,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
B.T. Express,
Dual Sessions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun Ra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Duran Duran,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sparks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Newcleus,
Isaac Hayes,
Zero Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Grauzone,
Masters at Work,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
Oblivians,
Mark Hollis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Darondo,
Tom Boy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Rod Modell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agitation Free,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Goldenarms,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Pole,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.