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 Russia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe 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 sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Five Americans,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
Roxette,
The Zeros,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
Jeff Mills,
The Leaves,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bauhaus,
ABC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wally Richardson,
Animal Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ralphi Rosario,
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Schoolly D,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
Angry Samoans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
Grey Daturas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Los Fastidios,
Shoche,
Thompson Twins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
Joyce Sims,
Circle Jerks,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.