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 Antigua and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Standells 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Michelle Simonal,
Kevin Saunderson,
Groovy Waters,
E-Dancer,
James White and The Blacks,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
Wolf Eyes,
Hashim,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
the Association,
Henry Cow,
The Gap Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Barracudas,
Amon Düül II,
Delta 5,
Robert Görl,
The Star Department,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys,
Echospace,
Livin' Joy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
Symarip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Second Layer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Prince Buster,
ABBA,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh,
Metal Thangz,
Theoretical Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Radio Birdman,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
Robert Hood,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter and Kerry,
Steve Hackett,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.