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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Slave,
Mantronix,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Saints,
the Sonics,
The Litter,
The Evens,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeru the Damaja,
Janne Schatter,
Little Man,
Ralphi Rosario,
Siglo XX,
Archie Shepp,
Chris & Cosey,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
Unwound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dawn Penn,
Eli Mardock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neu!,
Magma,
Ten City,
The Names,
Robert Görl,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Japan,
Model 500,
Marmalade,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MDC,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
The Barracudas,
The Monochrome Set,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Pus,
Connie Case,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gladiators,
The Move,
Funkadelic,
The Slits,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.