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 Slovakia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Fuzztones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
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,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
FM Einheit,
Basic Channel,
Con Funk Shun,
The Trojans,
Peter & Gordon,
The Raincoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Graham Central Station,
Jacques Brel,
KRS-One,
Sixth Finger,
Quadrant,
Ponytail,
Quando Quango,
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Dual Sessions,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Echospace,
Yellowson,
The Seeds,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultra Naté,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Mantronix,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
Cymande,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Popol Vuh,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
The Doors,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Donald Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scientists,
Porter Ricks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rapeman,
Angry Samoans,
New Age Steppers,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.