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 Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 The Blues Magoos to the punk 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Byron Stingily,
Country Teasers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fad Gadget,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
Saccharine Trust,
The Litter,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
Ohio Players,
OOIOO,
Gastr Del Sol,
The New Christs,
Pere Ubu,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
Supertramp,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Mills,
PIL,
X-101,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
Robert Wyatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxy Music,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Vogues,
The Star Department,
Robert Hood,
Rosa Yemen,
Tubeway Army,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
Spoonie Gee,
Chris & Cosey,
Sound Behaviour,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mummies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.