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 Burkina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Christie to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
Tears for Fears,
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
New Order,
Eric Copeland,
Flash Fearless,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cramps,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Blues Magoos,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Marvin Gaye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
Max Romeo,
Skaos,
Barry Ungar,
Lyres,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Henry Cow,
The Leaves,
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Mantronix,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Terry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Connie Case,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Misunderstood,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.