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 Sierra Leone and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Harpers Bizarre to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 guitar and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gun Club,
Anthony Braxton,
Pulsallama,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
World's Most,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
Jeff Mills,
David McCallum,
Bobby Sherman,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Hood,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
Boredoms,
Panda Bear,
Ultimate Spinach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stetsasonic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Darondo,
Arthur Verocai,
Urselle,
The Angels of Light,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mummies,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
The Leaves,
Gang of Four,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABBA,
The Young Rascals,
New Age Steppers,
Brand Nubian,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.