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 Rwanda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Dice to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pylon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Technova,
Man Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donny Hathaway,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Althea and Donna,
Ronnie Foster,
the Sonics,
The Dead C,
Swell Maps,
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
Gastr Del Sol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
Ken Boothe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Rakim,
The Names,
Chris & Cosey,
Colin Newman,
The Trojans,
The Gories,
The Dirtbombs,
B.T. Express,
Fela Kuti,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
The Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
The Happenings,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
T. Rex,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.