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 Ghana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wings to the rap 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
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,
Sight & Sound,
Lalann,
Urselle,
The Angels of Light,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
Yaz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nas,
Nik Kershaw,
The J.B.'s,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Crime,
Brass Construction,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soul II Soul,
Silicon Teens,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
cv313,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roxy Music,
Country Teasers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick Morgan,
Q and Not U,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül,
Deakin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
In Retrospect,
Unrelated Segments,
Carl Craig,
Erasure,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
Man Parrish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Morten Harket,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.