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 Syria and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Crispian St. Peters,
Leonard Cohen,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
Index,
The Leaves,
Surgeon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jawbox,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jeff Mills,
Rod Modell,
La Düsseldorf,
Sound Behaviour,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
DNA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Depeche Mode,
Newcleus,
AZ,
Roxy Music,
Silicon Teens,
Wire,
Joe Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Fad Gadget,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
The Vogues,
Lindisfarne,
FM Einheit,
Brand Nubian,
David Bowie,
Motorama,
The Angels of Light,
Carl Craig,
Funky Four + One,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun City Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Almond,
The Buckinghams,
Los Fastidios,
The Modern Lovers,
The Saints,
Mandrill,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Bauhaus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.