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 Antigua and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tomorrow to the disco 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Trojans,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Moby Grape,
David Bowie,
Lou Christie,
Eden Ahbez,
Kayak,
Drexciya,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
The Toasters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brothers Johnson,
KRS-One,
Patti Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Parry Music,
Connie Case,
Lalann,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Symarip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Dawn Penn,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
JFA,
The Slackers,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.