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 Zimbabwe and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a sitar 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Banda Bassotti,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Lyres,
Boz Scaggs,
Scion,
The Birthday Party,
Soul Sonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mad Mike,
Alphaville,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
The Modern Lovers,
Hardrive,
Soulsonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
R.M.O.,
Todd Rundgren,
Barbara Tucker,
Scientists,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Neil Young,
Unrelated Segments,
The Trojans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Saints,
Supertramp,
Goldenarms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mantronix,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liliput,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mummies,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Index,
Funkadelic,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cheater Slicks,
Unwound,
Scrapy,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.