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 United Kingdom and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Franke to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moby Grape,
The Litter,
Nik Kershaw,
Niagra,
Essential Logic,
Sparks,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
The Busters,
Arthur Verocai,
Sister Nancy,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
Michelle Simonal,
Absolute Body Control,
Q and Not U,
Ralphi Rosario,
New Order,
Eric B and Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Sound Behaviour,
Grauzone,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Starr,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
E-Dancer,
Laurel Aitken,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fatback Band,
Robert Görl,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Donald Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
K-Klass,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.