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 Peru and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Flipper to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Ornette Coleman,
Stereo Dub,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Max Romeo,
Mr. Review,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deakin,
Sugar Minott,
The Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Youth Brigade,
Spandau Ballet,
Archie Shepp,
Nico,
Infiniti,
Flipper,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cybotron,
Chris Corsano,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Fad Gadget,
Crash Course in Science,
Byron Stingily,
June of 44,
Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Donald Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-101,
Wings,
The Selecter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sällskapet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Au Pairs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Amazonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zapp,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.