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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 the Association to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an organ 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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
Carl Craig,
K-Klass,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Wyatt,
Audionom,
Bill Near,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Maleditus Sound,
Duran Duran,
Urselle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Martian,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Cameo,
Sparks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pylon,
Au Pairs,
Echospace,
Josef K,
Wire,
Quantec,
Japan,
Sixth Finger,
The Saints,
Scientists,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Patti Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Lydon,
Negative Approach,
Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Monks,
Drexciya,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sister Nancy,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Trumans Water,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slackers,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
Faust,
Lightning Bolt,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.