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 Malawi and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Magazine to the rock 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bad Manners,
The Slits,
Arcadia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
Model 500,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lindisfarne,
Siglo XX,
Audionom,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Sällskapet,
Robert Görl,
Reuben Wilson,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Susan Cadogan,
Todd Terry,
Max Romeo,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Misunderstood,
Qualms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Babytalk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magma,
Buzzcocks,
T.S.O.L.,
New Order,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Drexciya,
Sarah Menescal,
Wolf Eyes,
Basic Channel,
Eve St. Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smoke,
Funky Four + One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gong,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.