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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Vainqueur to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
AZ,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sight & Sound,
Reagan Youth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Pus,
Darondo,
Infiniti,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
T. Rex,
Yellowson,
The Monochrome Set,
The Grass Roots,
The Angels of Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nas,
The Star Department,
Nico,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
Mission of Burma,
Inner City,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skriet,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rod Modell,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Guru Guru,
Jerry's Kids,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Television Personalities,
Grey Daturas,
Godley & Creme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Moon,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Q65,
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.