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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Cramps,
Fatback Band,
Q65,
Kurtis Blow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
The United States of America,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül II,
A Certain Ratio,
Symarip,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Franke,
Excepter,
Chrome,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erykah Badu,
The Birthday Party,
Barry Ungar,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Litter,
The J.B.'s,
Rod Modell,
Severed Heads,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spandau Ballet,
Cal Tjader,
Cameo,
Black Bananas,
Ronan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Last Poets,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
OOIOO,
Bizarre Inc.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
The Mummies,
Groovy Waters,
The Gap Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
Thee Headcoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yusef Lateef,
Monks,
Wings,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.