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 Tajikistan 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Hoover to the crunk 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
The Birthday Party,
Ornette Coleman,
Cecil Taylor,
In Retrospect,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Funkadelic,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Zeros,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blackbyrds,
The Vogues,
Television,
Josef K,
Trumans Water,
La Düsseldorf,
Cymande,
Colin Newman,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Seeds,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Starr,
Animal Collective,
Fugazi,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fat Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ronan,
Wally Richardson,
Arthur Verocai,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Shoche,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Agent Orange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul II Soul,
MDC,
Rekid,
Derrick May,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Scott Walker,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.