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 Suriname and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Walker Brothers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Seeds,
The Move,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
Radiohead,
Rod Modell,
Drexciya,
Robert Görl,
Animal Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
Ornette Coleman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Fraelich,
The Standells,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lower 48,
The J.B.'s,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy Collins,
Simply Red,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Brand Nubian,
Pierre Henry,
Iggy Pop,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Hood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tom Boy,
Eric Copeland,
Mantronix,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blossom Toes,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Walker Brothers,
The Kinks,
The Names,
The Blues Magoos,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
Joy Division,
The Associates,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.