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 France and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 a-ha to the crunk 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Sight & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Half Japanese,
Rakim,
Ponytail,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
The Young Rascals,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warren Ellis,
Severed Heads,
Unwound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stockholm Monsters,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
The Blues Magoos,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
KRS-One,
Visage,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
R.M.O.,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
Organ,
Black Bananas,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jacob Miller,
Don Cherry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Association,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.