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 Azerbaijan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Reuben Wilson to the electroclash 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grauzone,
Cluster,
Surgeon,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Mills,
The American Breed,
Skaos,
Fatback Band,
The Move,
The Standells,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
Darondo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Henry Cow,
Pantytec,
Hashim,
The Young Rascals,
EPMD,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Sonics,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grey Daturas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Section 25,
The Angels of Light,
F. McDonald,
Howard Jones,
Liliput,
Chris & Cosey,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Intrusion,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
The Cure,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.