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 Micronesia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Human League to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe 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 organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Trumans Water,
Franke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy Collins,
Grey Daturas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
Henry Cow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Howard Jones,
The Happenings,
Roxy Music,
D'Angelo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blackbyrds,
Byron Stingily,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Cecil Taylor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric Copeland,
Depeche Mode,
Erykah Badu,
Angry Samoans,
Dave Gahan,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Oblivians,
Erasure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gong,
Magazine,
Ultra Naté,
Negative Approach,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.