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 Bolivia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Roxette to the techno 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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
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,
K-Klass,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Popol Vuh,
Tres Demented,
Absolute Body Control,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Derrick May,
John Cale,
the Human League,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
Fear,
The Zeros,
Delta 5,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gladiators,
the Swans,
Underground Resistance,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blancmange,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
Andrew Hill,
D'Angelo,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Moebius,
Rites of Spring,
Section 25,
Boz Scaggs,
Zero Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Remains,
Country Teasers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lucky Dragons,
Dennis Brown,
Echospace,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.