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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 Jeru the Damaja to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Radio Birdman,
Stetsasonic,
Ken Boothe,
Brass Construction,
Essential Logic,
the Sonics,
Ultravox,
Rod Modell,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Sun Ra,
Cecil Taylor,
Audionom,
Peter & Gordon,
Jawbox,
Mandrill,
New Age Steppers,
The Blackbyrds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultra Naté,
The Barracudas,
Japan,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kayak,
Urselle,
Black Sheep,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Music Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Franke,
Stiv Bators,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Iggy Pop,
Sugar Minott,
The Cure,
Monks,
AZ,
Crime,
Kurtis Blow,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
MDC,
Sarah Menescal,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Suburban Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharoah Sanders,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.