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 Brunei and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Desert Stars,
John Holt,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
Janne Schatter,
Los Fastidios,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gun Club,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Amazonics,
The Fall,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
Vladislav Delay,
Lakeside,
Urselle,
The New Christs,
Scientists,
The Modern Lovers,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
The Selecter,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Danielle Patucci,
LL Cool J,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultra Naté,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Knickerbockers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
Black Sheep,
Archie Shepp,
Roger Hodgson,
Model 500,
Matthew Bourne,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rufus Thomas,
Leonard Cohen,
The United States of America,
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.