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 Romania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joey Negro to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
David Axelrod,
The Dirtbombs,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shuggie Otis,
Pylon,
Panda Bear,
Porter Ricks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deadbeat,
Hashim,
Theoretical Girls,
Tomorrow,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Cale,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
Mo-Dettes,
Aaron Thompson,
Bootsy Collins,
Wire,
Judy Mowatt,
Isaac Hayes,
Surgeon,
Icehouse,
The Martian,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
The Selecter,
Rod Modell,
Nas,
Hoover,
Sun City Girls,
LL Cool J,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlback,
Max Romeo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
Sugar Minott,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.