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 Laos and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Leonard Cohen,
B.T. Express,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Circle Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fall,
Howard Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Shoche,
Panda Bear,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Bananas,
Cybotron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quadrant,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donny Hathaway,
Pole,
Joyce Sims,
Yazoo,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Girls At Our Best!,
Audionom,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dirtbombs,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Echospace,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
The Black Dice,
The Smoke,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fuzztones,
Barbara Tucker,
Unwound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
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.