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 Guyana and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Matthew Bourne to the jazz 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Ultra Naté,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stereo Dub,
The Fuzztones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Flash Fearless,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fatback Band,
The Sound,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül II,
Quando Quango,
DNA,
Pantytec,
kango's stein massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Underground Resistance,
Tropical Tobacco,
cv313,
These Immortal Souls,
Rufus Thomas,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Pagans,
Judy Mowatt,
The Angels of Light,
Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fugs,
Byron Stingily,
Albert Ayler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Neu!,
X-102,
Hot Snakes,
Magma,
Johnny Clarke,
Duran Duran,
Animal Collective,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oblivians,
Isaac Hayes,
The Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.