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 France and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Seeds to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Albert Ayler,
The Angels of Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
The Remains,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Grey Daturas,
Bang On A Can,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B,
Joy Division,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
D'Angelo,
the Human League,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blancmange,
Loose Ends,
Eve St. Jones,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Erasure,
Smog,
Sound Behaviour,
Stockholm Monsters,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Motorama,
Alphaville,
Average White Band,
Dual Sessions,
The Litter,
Quantec,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Desert Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Stereo Dub,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Country Teasers,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
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.