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 Guyana and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare 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 Intrusion to the rock 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
R.M.O.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Swell Maps,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalann,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cal Tjader,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
Freddie Wadling,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Pop Group,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
Ituana,
The Associates,
Ultimate Spinach,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeff Mills,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Ultra Naté,
Unwound,
AZ,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
CMW,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Swans,
the Human League,
KRS-One,
The Fall,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.