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 Senegal and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 David Axelrod to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magazine,
The Sound,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
the Bar-Kays,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Camouflage,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül,
Black Pus,
Eden Ahbez,
Sight & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Enemy,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonic Youth,
the Germs,
June Days,
La Düsseldorf,
Idris Muhammad,
Reuben Wilson,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
Joy Division,
Q65,
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacques Brel,
The Slackers,
Young Marble Giants,
Aswad,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
Slave,
The Victims,
The Mojo Men,
Harmonia,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Audionom,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
Moss Icon,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.