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 Andorra and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Index to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Grey Daturas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rotary Connection,
Magma,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
Aloha Tigers,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
The Human League,
Derrick May,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spandau Ballet,
The Zeros,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young,
Con Funk Shun,
Hoover,
Matthew Bourne,
China Crisis,
Ten City,
Thee Headcoats,
Silicon Teens,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crash Course in Science,
Kurtis Blow,
Monolake,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Motions,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
Basic Channel,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Sister Nancy,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Zero Boys,
Hardrive,
The Last Poets,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Finger,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.