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 San Marino and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang of Four to the electroclash 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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
Pagans,
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T.S.O.L.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
The Invisible,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
The Toasters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Camberwell Now,
The Raincoats,
Ludus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultra Naté,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Oneida,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Vogues,
Brand Nubian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Barracudas,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
Warren Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Todd Rundgren,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fatback Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Real Kids,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Cell,
PIL,
Tom Boy,
Jeff Lynne,
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.