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 Samoa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Black Dice,
The Five Americans,
Make Up,
The New Christs,
June of 44,
Dawn Penn,
Arab on Radar,
D'Angelo,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
The Leaves,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Parrish,
Nik Kershaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doobie Brothers,
Altered Images,
Pussy Galore,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Unrelated Segments,
The Count Five,
James White and The Blacks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rod Modell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Saccharine Trust,
Porter Ricks,
Lalann,
Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David Bowie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Simply Red,
The Pop Group,
cv313,
Supertramp,
Visage,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Donny Hathaway,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Young Marble Giants,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Chris & Cosey,
This Heat,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joe Smooth,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Janne Schatter,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Pylon,
Bauhaus,
Fat Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
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.