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 Burkina and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Joe Smooth to the rock 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
Chris Corsano,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
Altered Images,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
The Tremeloes,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Surgeon,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Ponytail,
The Wake,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Starr,
cv313,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June Days,
Bootsy Collins,
Q and Not U,
Drive Like Jehu,
MC5,
Pantytec,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
Minutemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Section 25,
Adolescents,
Lucky Dragons,
Darondo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rosa Yemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Soft Machine,
Rod Modell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rapeman,
Barry Ungar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.