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 El Salvador and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Babytalk to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
Sandy B,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
Skaos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul II Soul,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
Andrew Hill,
Kas Product,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Procol Harum,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
Ten City,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arab on Radar,
Cybotron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dead Boys,
Television Personalities,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Scrapy,
Mo-Dettes,
Nirvana,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arcadia,
Loose Ends,
Hasil Adkins,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
Echospace,
The Leaves,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oneida,
Absolute Body Control,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.