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 France and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Toasters to the jazz 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Eli Mardock,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
The Index,
Delta 5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
ABC,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Interpol,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris & Cosey,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Yaz,
Robert Görl,
Easy Going,
The Misunderstood,
The Blues Magoos,
Minor Threat,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
The Raincoats,
Q65,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
Amon Düül,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
cv313,
Pharoah Sanders,
Loose Ends,
Flipper,
Gang Green,
Chrome,
Brothers Johnson,
Minny Pops,
Soulsonic Force,
James White and The Blacks,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aaron Thompson,
Rapeman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gories,
Anthony Braxton,
Prince Buster,
Arcadia,
Marmalade,
These Immortal Souls,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.