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 Netherlands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Blossom Toes to the crunk 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fall,
Eric Copeland,
Mantronix,
AZ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Sparks,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reuben Wilson,
The Associates,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alphaville,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
Radio Birdman,
Bang On A Can,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Sheep,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
Outsiders,
Toni Rubio,
B.T. Express,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Walker Brothers,
Easy Going,
Y Pants,
John Holt,
Popol Vuh,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Althea and Donna,
John Foxx,
Bob Dylan,
The Techniques,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
The Shadows of Knight,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Soulsonic Force,
Dennis Brown,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Ice-T,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.