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 Armenia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Procol Harum to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sam Rivers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ice-T,
Scientists,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q and Not U,
The Trojans,
Sandy B,
Scott Walker,
Popol Vuh,
The Monks,
Mandrill,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
The Gladiators,
Mad Mike,
Ultra Naté,
Soulsonic Force,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
MC5,
The Happenings,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
Groovy Waters,
Gang of Four,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Piero Umiliani,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
Underground Resistance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slackers,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spoonie Gee,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Scratch Acid,
Junior Murvin,
The Raincoats,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.