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 Armenia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Skarface to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator 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 harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
Agitation Free,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blake Baxter,
Donald Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Pulsallama,
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Cymande,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Saccharine Trust,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Danielle Patucci,
Magazine,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker,
Swell Maps,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pole,
DJ Sneak,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Magma,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bronski Beat,
Ultravox,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fugazi,
Gong,
JFA,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Sun City Girls,
Yaz,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Durutti Column,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
The Stooges,
Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.