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 Qatar and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar 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 sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Con Funk Shun,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Victims,
Bad Manners,
DNA,
Flash Fearless,
The Misunderstood,
Heaven 17,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marvin Gaye,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Massinfluence,
Thompson Twins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Buzzcocks,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alphaville,
The Human League,
Bizarre Inc.,
Henry Cow,
Sun Ra,
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Arcadia,
Mad Mike,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Todd Terry,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sight & Sound,
The Martian,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monks,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wasted Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Royal Trux,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.