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 Tuvalu and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Erasure to the funk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gories,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chris Corsano,
Soulsonic Force,
Crime,
Sister Nancy,
Intrusion,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donny Hathaway,
Sam Rivers,
This Heat,
Jeff Mills,
Quadrant,
Derrick Morgan,
The Associates,
Tommy Roe,
H. Thieme,
The United States of America,
Sound Behaviour,
Byron Stingily,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Amon Düül,
Quantec,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Whodini,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronnie Foster,
The Knickerbockers,
Dawn Penn,
Soul II Soul,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Zapp,
F. McDonald,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Kerri Chandler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Althea and Donna,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
Little Man,
Alison Limerick,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Moon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fortunes,
ABC,
Barrington Levy,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.