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 Bahamas and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Jimmy McGriff to the dance 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Judy Mowatt,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
Essential Logic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mojo Men,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zero Boys,
Country Teasers,
Wasted Youth,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Moebius,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U,
Joyce Sims,
Bauhaus,
Quando Quango,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Aaron Thompson,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sight & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Amazonics,
JFA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
Gang Starr,
Skaos,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
LL Cool J,
ABBA,
Ultravox,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Rundgren,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scrapy,
Public Enemy,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young,
The Modern Lovers,
One Last Wish,
Thee Headcoats,
Little Man,
Reuben Wilson,
The Monks,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.