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 Colombia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Robert Palmer 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 Saints to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Black Flag,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Trumans Water,
Boredoms,
Whodini,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Juan Atkins,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New Order,
Negative Approach,
Schoolly D,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Marine Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tom Boy,
Silicon Teens,
Brick,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
The Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flipper,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deadbeat,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Grass Roots,
Delta 5,
Urselle,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Spandau Ballet,
Aloha Tigers,
Althea and Donna,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.