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 Algeria and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joey Negro,
China Crisis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantytec,
Blossom Toes,
Icehouse,
The United States of America,
Boredoms,
Arab on Radar,
The Black Dice,
Jandek,
Parry Music,
Half Japanese,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wire,
R.M.O.,
Pet Shop Boys,
H. Thieme,
Sixth Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doors,
ABBA,
The Skatalites,
Pantaleimon,
The Vogues,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Invisible,
David Axelrod,
Mission of Burma,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Evens,
Wally Richardson,
Scratch Acid,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Negative Approach,
Sparks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.