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 Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joensuu 1685 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a linndrum and a sitar 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 clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Dolphy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
Cecil Taylor,
Rapeman,
UT,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pulsallama,
Eve St. Jones,
Parry Music,
The Motions,
The Skatalites,
Blancmange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nick Fraelich,
Dark Day,
Marvin Gaye,
Sex Pistols,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cheater Slicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
Section 25,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
In Retrospect,
U.S. Maple,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kayak,
The Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Malaria!,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.