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 Bahamas and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
Kas Product,
Toni Rubio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mr. Review,
MDC,
Excepter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick Morgan,
Crime,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Khruangbin,
Delta 5,
B.T. Express,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
cv313,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Leonard Cohen,
Hoover,
Von Mondo,
Ice-T,
Dennis Brown,
One Last Wish,
Skaos,
The Moody Blues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Goldenarms,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.