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 Poland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sex Pistols to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro 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 oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Whodini,
Make Up,
Dennis Brown,
Eden Ahbez,
Aloha Tigers,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Nils Olav,
Leonard Cohen,
Trumans Water,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
Niagra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grauzone,
The Velvet Underground,
Ronnie Foster,
Lungfish,
Moby Grape,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Eve St. Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispy Ambulance,
Funky Four + One,
Sister Nancy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman,
Moss Icon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suburban Knight,
Kayak,
Public Enemy,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Johnny Clarke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Terry,
Pulsallama,
Jacques Brel,
Kaleidoscope,
Desert Stars,
Moebius,
the Normal,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.