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 Panama and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stockholm Monsters to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Essential Logic,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fatback Band,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
Peter and Kerry,
Max Romeo,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sonics,
Nas,
Lou Christie,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Eden Ahbez,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Busters,
Pere Ubu,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
Althea and Donna,
Ossler,
The Fuzztones,
Aaron Thompson,
Derrick May,
Fear,
The Gladiators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Seeds,
The Fugs,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Clear Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smiths,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lakeside,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Pussy Galore,
CMW,
Johnny Clarke,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
Gang of Four,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arab on Radar,
Stereo Dub,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.