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 Marshall Islands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet 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 synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Talk Talk,
Reagan Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Tommy Roe,
Anthony Braxton,
Dead Boys,
Sam Rivers,
DNA,
Ludus,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
La Düsseldorf,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Don Cherry,
Quadrant,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Agitation Free,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eli Mardock,
Lower 48,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Second Layer,
Pantaleimon,
Y Pants,
The Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
The American Breed,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sonics,
The Standells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tomorrow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Infiniti,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare,
Half Japanese,
Scratch Acid,
Rekid,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Babytalk,
New York Dolls,
Dave Gahan,
Pierre Henry,
June Days,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.