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 Mauritania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Frankie Knuckles to the crunk 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Agitation Free,
Nico,
Bobby Byrd,
Pagans,
Stetsasonic,
The Five Americans,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arcadia,
Wally Richardson,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Derrick May,
Franke,
CMW,
Albert Ayler,
Boredoms,
Terry Callier,
Cameo,
One Last Wish,
Mandrill,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Hasil Adkins,
Harry Pussy,
Q and Not U,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Althea and Donna,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
The Music Machine,
Ten City,
UT,
Thompson Twins,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiohead,
Sarah Menescal,
T. Rex,
kango's stein massive,
the Soft Cell,
The Names,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camberwell Now,
Ice-T,
Yaz,
Fatback Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.