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 Canada and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lungfish 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
The United States of America,
Joy Division,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Howard Jones,
Television,
Gerry Rafferty,
Procol Harum,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Graham Central Station,
John Coltrane,
E-Dancer,
The Slits,
The Pretty Things,
DNA,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pulsallama,
Groovy Waters,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Blossom Toes,
Fela Kuti,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Shuggie Otis,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Excepter,
Camouflage,
Max Romeo,
cv313,
Q and Not U,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dead C,
Bobby Womack,
World's Most,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Althea and Donna,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.