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 St Lucia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barrington Levy to the rap 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Country Teasers,
Public Enemy,
Jeff Mills,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
The Motions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
Visage,
Wasted Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slits,
Surgeon,
Scratch Acid,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Index,
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
The Skatalites,
Clear Light,
Angry Samoans,
T.S.O.L.,
Accadde A,
48th St. Collective,
Lungfish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Infiniti,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gastr Del Sol,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Unwound,
The Leaves,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cameo,
Janne Schatter,
Sixth Finger,
Franke,
Maurizio,
Vainqueur,
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.