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 Liberia and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Michael McDonald 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 Goldenarms to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 808 and a synthesizer 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?
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Pole,
Marmalade,
June Days,
Stiv Bators,
Kerri Chandler,
Thompson Twins,
T. Rex,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
Skriet,
Andrew Hill,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Duran Duran,
Terry Callier,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Happenings,
The Last Poets,
The United States of America,
Aloha Tigers,
Brass Construction,
Neil Young,
The Knickerbockers,
Eddi Front,
Joe Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Raincoats,
Maurizio,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
Tres Demented,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minor Threat,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
The Stooges,
Pussy Galore,
cv313,
New Age Steppers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Misunderstood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.