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 Somalia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
CMW,
Vladislav Delay,
Marmalade,
The Slackers,
Piero Umiliani,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Copeland,
Nils Olav,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
Cheater Slicks,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Altered Images,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
DJ Sneak,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deadbeat,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
Nirvana,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Oneida,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quantec,
Duran Duran,
The Cramps,
kango's stein massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
ABBA,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skarface,
The Birthday Party,
Colin Newman,
The Stooges,
Masters at Work,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Yellowson,
The Dead C,
Ornette Coleman,
Deakin,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.