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 Belgium and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the techno 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Dark Day,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Christie,
The Modern Lovers,
Lindisfarne,
Underground Resistance,
Hoover,
Young Marble Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Index,
Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
The United States of America,
Sparks,
Fear,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
Essential Logic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
The Mummies,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Zeros,
B.T. Express,
The Wake,
the Association,
DJ Style,
Rekid,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
Cymande,
Bill Near,
Dennis Brown,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Quantec,
Infiniti,
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.