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 Poland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Matthew Bourne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a mellotron 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Saccharine Trust,
Donald Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Near,
Cheater Slicks,
Blake Baxter,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Selecter,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sandy B,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marmalade,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
Pierre Henry,
Banda Bassotti,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pop Group,
Lalo Schifrin,
Main Source,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Albert Ayler,
Patti Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Evens,
Von Mondo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
David McCallum,
Bootsy Collins,
Youth Brigade,
OOIOO,
Sarah Menescal,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Metal Thangz,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hasil Adkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.