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 St Lucia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
Absolute Body Control,
Frankie Knuckles,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
The Wake,
Piero Umiliani,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Marine Girls,
Duran Duran,
Tres Demented,
Soulsonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Beasts of Bourbon,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Con Funk Shun,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soft Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
New Order,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
Second Layer,
Barry Ungar,
Erykah Badu,
U.S. Maple,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
Half Japanese,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Symarip,
Soul II Soul,
The Toasters,
Rotary Connection,
Brick,
The Stooges,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Angry Samoans,
Dark Day,
Bang On A Can,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.