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 Iraq and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aloha Tigers to the punk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
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,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Can,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Marmalade,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang On A Can,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
Rufus Thomas,
Soulsonic Force,
The Star Department,
Fat Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Maleditus Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Scion,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Symarip,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Second Layer,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marine Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Fela Kuti,
Altered Images,
Yazoo,
Sam Rivers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Byron Stingily,
Negative Approach,
Japan,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arcadia,
Dennis Brown,
Boredoms,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
The Vogues,
Johnny Clarke,
Bronski Beat,
MC5,
Soft Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
Warsaw,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.