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 Chile and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blake Baxter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yaz,
Average White Band,
Tom Boy,
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Das Ding,
Michelle Simonal,
Scratch Acid,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ohio Players,
Barry Ungar,
Sun City Girls,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Womack,
Excepter,
Au Pairs,
Bronski Beat,
Vainqueur,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang On A Can,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
Prince Buster,
Fela Kuti,
Deepchord,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harmonia,
Johnny Clarke,
Faust,
Dual Sessions,
Mark Hollis,
a-ha,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cowsills,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fortunes,
Essential Logic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Babytalk,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.