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 Greece and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bill Wells to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Derrick May,
The Fuzztones,
Slick Rick,
E-Dancer,
The Last Poets,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roy Ayers,
The Golliwogs,
D'Angelo,
Archie Shepp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Nick Fraelich,
Young Marble Giants,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fortunes,
PIL,
MC5,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiohead,
Mad Mike,
Dawn Penn,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Monolake,
Sugar Minott,
The Stooges,
Alton Ellis,
Joey Negro,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultravox,
Ludus,
K-Klass,
the Normal,
Minor Threat,
The Barracudas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Bad Manners,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
The Beau Brummels,
Swell Maps,
Erykah Badu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.