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 Nigeria and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
the Germs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter & Gordon,
Basic Channel,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New York Dolls,
DNA,
Quando Quango,
The Toasters,
The Martian,
the Bar-Kays,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Remains,
Lindisfarne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Vogues,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nico,
Franke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Christie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
Pulsallama,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharoah Sanders,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skaos,
The Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Quantec,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun City Girls,
The Standells,
Funkadelic,
OOIOO,
Tres Demented,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.