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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Henry Cow 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Motions,
Delon & Dalcan,
UT,
Stereo Dub,
Scan 7,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
Alison Limerick,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
The Standells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Wyatt,
In Retrospect,
FM Einheit,
Funkadelic,
Q65,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Colin Newman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joey Negro,
Unwound,
The Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Charles Mingus,
The Smoke,
ABC,
Lucky Dragons,
Sparks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Slackers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Busters,
Tommy Roe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moody Blues,
Section 25,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
Nick Fraelich,
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.