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 Ivory Coast and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Prince Buster to the rock 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
Ronnie Foster,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Royal Trux,
Index,
The Happenings,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Technova,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sandy B,
Hasil Adkins,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Vainqueur,
Bill Wells,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Techniques,
Throbbing Gristle,
Newcleus,
The Neon Judgement,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crime,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Half Japanese,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
Sonic Youth,
The Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gap Band,
The Index,
Interpol,
Public Enemy,
Robert Hood,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Duran Duran,
Negative Approach,
Heaven 17,
Suicide,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.