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 Belarus and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Robert Görl to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
The Kinks,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
L. Decosne,
Wasted Youth,
UT,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mark Hollis,
Magma,
Ossler,
These Immortal Souls,
The Names,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Albert Ayler,
Pole,
Guru Guru,
T.S.O.L.,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
Slick Rick,
Harmonia,
Connie Case,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
Bill Wells,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pagans,
Wings,
Grauzone,
Can,
June Days,
Flash Fearless,
Slave,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Bob Dylan,
The Gladiators,
Animal Collective,
Lower 48,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
E-Dancer,
Vainqueur,
Sugar Minott,
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.