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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Zero Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a linndrum 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minutemen,
David Bowie,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
Tubeway Army,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Darondo,
the Normal,
Crash Course in Science,
Idris Muhammad,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eve St. Jones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Agitation Free,
The Red Krayola,
David McCallum,
Rites of Spring,
Boz Scaggs,
One Last Wish,
Simply Red,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Mills,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Lakeside,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Pylon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sonic Youth,
Khruangbin,
The Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Evens,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joe Finger,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aloha Tigers,
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.