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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 Cecil Taylor to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maleditus Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Piero Umiliani,
Underground Resistance,
Tubeway Army,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Eden Ahbez,
Blake Baxter,
The Moleskins,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crime,
Lungfish,
Simply Red,
Second Layer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Hood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wasted Youth,
Dead Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Bourne,
the Soft Cell,
Yusef Lateef,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Standells,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joe Smooth,
Fugazi,
Isaac Hayes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
Charles Mingus,
Loose Ends,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Bananas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.