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 Cameroon and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Camouflage to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Black Pus,
F. McDonald,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Niagra,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
Carl Craig,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
The Busters,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radio Birdman,
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
Fad Gadget,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
X-Ray Spex,
The Angels of Light,
Joensuu 1685,
Reuben Wilson,
Masters at Work,
Heaven 17,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
The Blackbyrds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stereo Dub,
Can,
The Barracudas,
The Sound,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Barry Ungar,
Subhumans,
DNA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Litter,
Talk Talk,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soulsonic Force,
Piero Umiliani,
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.