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 France and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer 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 oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Jacob Miller,
Pantaleimon,
The Evens,
Hardrive,
Marine Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pussy Galore,
Scott Walker,
Negative Approach,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Blues Magoos,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Teasers,
Yaz,
Marvin Gaye,
Quantec,
Alphaville,
The Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
The Birthday Party,
The Monks,
Al Stewart,
The Names,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Livin' Joy,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Newcleus,
The Slits,
The Last Poets,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Monks,
Aswad,
Outsiders,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
Arthur Verocai,
Brick,
Kerri Chandler,
Sound Behaviour,
Eddi Front,
Tim Buckley,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Davy DMX,
Carl Craig,
PIL,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Clarke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Hill,
Barry Ungar,
Dark Day,
Whodini,
Ponytail,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.