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 Uruguay and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Swans to the rock 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
R.M.O.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blossom Toes,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare,
Animal Collective,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sun City Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Guru Guru,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Sex Pistols,
Ice-T,
Bobby Byrd,
X-Ray Spex,
Das Ding,
The Human League,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Popol Vuh,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gap Band,
Graham Central Station,
Newcleus,
New York Dolls,
Crime,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faraquet,
Radio Birdman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
This Heat,
Warren Ellis,
D'Angelo,
The Fuzztones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Whodini,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
Soul II Soul,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Jeff Mills,
The Fall,
Youth Brigade,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Dead Boys,
Liliput,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.