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 Djibouti and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Invisible to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Gong,
Eli Mardock,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
Tim Buckley,
Susan Cadogan,
Ossler,
Faraquet,
Crash Course in Science,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
Nils Olav,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
Crime,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
Scrapy,
The Music Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barrington Levy,
Terry Callier,
Josef K,
Scientists,
Interpol,
Basic Channel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
DJ Sneak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
Porter Ricks,
X-101,
Eve St. Jones,
Pylon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sound,
Minny Pops,
The Remains,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
Talk Talk,
Negative Approach,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.