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 Ghana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nik Kershaw to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Vladislav Delay,
Wasted Youth,
Whodini,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cheater Slicks,
Sparks,
Agitation Free,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MC5,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris & Cosey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultra Naté,
Cluster,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
The Searchers,
DJ Style,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sam Rivers,
Minnie Riperton,
Wings,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Junior Murvin,
Surgeon,
Dennis Brown,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Green,
The Mojo Men,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Mills,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
Jacob Miller,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.