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 Korea North and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Underground Resistance to the disco 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 a mellotron and a theremin 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warren Ellis,
Henry Cow,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magma,
Rod Modell,
Lightning Bolt,
Erasure,
Agent Orange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Steve Hackett,
Charles Mingus,
EPMD,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick May,
The Busters,
Nirvana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin,
Cybotron,
The Mojo Men,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Symarip,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Barry Ungar,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joyce Sims,
Sonic Youth,
The Cure,
Faust,
The Real Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Janne Schatter,
Easy Going,
Cal Tjader,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Black Pus,
Youth Brigade,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Brothers Johnson,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.