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 Mauritius and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Fania All-Stars to the rap 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Cameo,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
the Bar-Kays,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
The Martian,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
Subhumans,
Alice Coltrane,
Main Source,
Ituana,
Eden Ahbez,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Yellowson,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Copeland,
The Slackers,
Rakim,
The Residents,
MC5,
the Swans,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Donny Hathaway,
UT,
Howard Jones,
Eddi Front,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anakelly,
Tomorrow,
Neil Young,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
X-102,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
Zero Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Cybotron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Siglo XX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Anthony Braxton,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.