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 Jordan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Trojans to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Moss Icon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fat Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Derrick May,
Al Stewart,
Bad Manners,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
Boredoms,
Hasil Adkins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faraquet,
Groovy Waters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Motorama,
The Star Department,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Chris Corsano,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Fela Kuti,
Ultravox,
Peter & Gordon,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA,
Barrington Levy,
R.M.O.,
The Cramps,
Darondo,
Lalann,
The Litter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Excepter,
Liliput,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sandy B,
Piero Umiliani,
The Buckinghams,
Man Parrish,
Urselle,
Cameo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rekid,
Archie Shepp,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.