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 Bahrain and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pantaleimon to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Derrick May,
Mo-Dettes,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sex Pistols,
Liliput,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Duran Duran,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Excepter,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Zeros,
The Five Americans,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang On A Can,
Delta 5,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bill Wells,
The Buckinghams,
Pylon,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
Connie Case,
Shuggie Otis,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
Camouflage,
Ten City,
The Knickerbockers,
Lower 48,
the Sonics,
Visage,
Leonard Cohen,
The Raincoats,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Japan,
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.