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 Algeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
The Stooges,
Erasure,
Cameo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
Model 500,
Peter & Gordon,
Aloha Tigers,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Don Cherry,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
a-ha,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ronan,
Ituana,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Pantaleimon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unrelated Segments,
MC5,
Tom Boy,
Liliput,
Young Marble Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
the Fania All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
Mars,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Leonard Cohen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Basic Channel,
The Wake,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
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.