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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum 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 a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
Newcleus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gories,
The Remains,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ossler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Dual Sessions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Judy Mowatt,
Royal Trux,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
Rites of Spring,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
Delta 5,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
Black Sheep,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camouflage,
Young Marble Giants,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Hood,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids,
Unwound,
The Victims,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
The Birthday Party,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
H. Thieme,
Skriet,
Kurtis Blow,
Isaac Hayes,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.