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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Axelrod to the punk 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Pole,
Carl Craig,
D'Angelo,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hashim,
The Fall,
The Real Kids,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Nick Fraelich,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Fugazi,
Absolute Body Control,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nik Kershaw,
Funky Four + One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Colin Newman,
Bronski Beat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Youth Brigade,
Warsaw,
B.T. Express,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
The Zeros,
The Raincoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yusef Lateef,
Letta Mbulu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Smog,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Kinks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slackers,
Public Enemy,
Lyres,
Easy Going,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
FM Einheit,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
Fatback Band,
Todd Rundgren,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.