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 Mali and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Stockholm Monsters to the crunk 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
June of 44,
Barry Ungar,
Aaron Thompson,
Sight & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reagan Youth,
Heaven 17,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
Amon Düül,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
the Germs,
Arab on Radar,
Ornette Coleman,
E-Dancer,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aural Exciters,
Massinfluence,
The Cramps,
Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Faraquet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deadbeat,
Jawbox,
OOIOO,
The Dead C,
John Coltrane,
The New Christs,
The Human League,
Symarip,
Eurythmics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liliput,
La Düsseldorf,
Lower 48,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Womack,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alton Ellis,
Slave,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Stereo Dub,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.