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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Essential Logic to the grime 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Swans,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Niagra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Human League,
Jacob Miller,
Wire,
The United States of America,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins,
Albert Ayler,
Nas,
The Residents,
Little Man,
Malaria!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
Smog,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
The Gories,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Isaac Hayes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Busters,
Magma,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ohio Players,
Black Moon,
Y Pants,
The Golliwogs,
Soulsonic Force,
Mad Mike,
Rapeman,
The Motions,
Sandy B,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
One Last Wish,
Robert Hood,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.