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 Nauru and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the funk 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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Ralphi Rosario,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Thompson Twins,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Near,
Anakelly,
Sällskapet,
Loose Ends,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
H. Thieme,
Vainqueur,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantytec,
Lakeside,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Archie Shepp,
Sam Rivers,
MC5,
Soft Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scion,
Max Romeo,
Steve Hackett,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
Trumans Water,
Ponytail,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warsaw,
Royal Trux,
Black Pus,
Tommy Roe,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Shoche,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ohio Players,
The Last Poets,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
New Age Steppers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.