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 Senegal and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 The Blackbyrds to the electroclash 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang On A Can,
EPMD,
Ken Boothe,
Terry Callier,
Leonard Cohen,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective,
Deepchord,
X-101,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dennis Brown,
Mo-Dettes,
Michelle Simonal,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Isaac Hayes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun Ra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiohead,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fat Boys,
Magma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Womack,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cameo,
Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Q65,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
Cal Tjader,
Crooked Eye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Qualms,
Lou Reed,
Arthur Verocai,
Radio Birdman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eurythmics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cymande,
Warsaw,
UT,
Marmalade,
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.