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 Botswana and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Crooked Eye,
Suicide,
The Kinks,
Donny Hathaway,
Massinfluence,
Electric Prunes,
Scion,
Bronski Beat,
Kurtis Blow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
China Crisis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Flag,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
E-Dancer,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masters at Work,
Technova,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cal Tjader,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Parry Music,
Magma,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Wells,
Skaos,
Tommy Roe,
Rotary Connection,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Durutti Column,
Jandek,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers,
John Lydon,
Sonic Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultravox,
Zero Boys,
Quantec,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.