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 Lithuania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 EPMD to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator 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 spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
Technova,
Symarip,
Y Pants,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Sam Rivers,
Negative Approach,
The Standells,
David Bowie,
Deakin,
Tres Demented,
Animal Collective,
Ralphi Rosario,
Au Pairs,
Hot Snakes,
Agitation Free,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chrome,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Association,
Tim Buckley,
Fad Gadget,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jandek,
Gang Green,
Cybotron,
Crash Course in Science,
Yazoo,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tubeway Army,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.