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 Dominica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
U.S. Maple,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Soul II Soul,
Ornette Coleman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brick,
The Monks,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
Hashim,
Bobby Womack,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
Ludus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Ronan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Eating Sloth,
Leonard Cohen,
Popol Vuh,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
EPMD,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Rundgren,
Interpol,
The Slackers,
Eric Copeland,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Sonics,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fugs,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
Circle Jerks,
The Motions,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Anakelly,
The Trojans,
Wasted Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Warsaw,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.