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 Morocco and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Sexual Harrassment to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
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,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
Wasted Youth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
UT,
Tres Demented,
Susan Cadogan,
Little Man,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Human League,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June Days,
The Grass Roots,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anthony Braxton,
Pierre Henry,
Unrelated Segments,
Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Negative Approach,
Young Marble Giants,
Tommy Roe,
The Victims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
This Heat,
L. Decosne,
Icehouse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barrington Levy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
The Fortunes,
Connie Case,
D'Angelo,
New Age Steppers,
Dual Sessions,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.