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 Grenada and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heaven 17 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crime,
Rites of Spring,
Prince Buster,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
Alison Limerick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
CMW,
The Mojo Men,
Fort Wilson Riot,
One Last Wish,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
The Trojans,
Vladislav Delay,
Alphaville,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cramps,
Surgeon,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson,
Goldenarms,
Cal Tjader,
The Beau Brummels,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Ornette Coleman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Simply Red,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skarface,
E-Dancer,
Visage,
Scion,
Jandek,
Chrome,
the Normal,
Archie Shepp,
Scott Walker,
Index,
Fat Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.