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 Iceland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Amon Düül to the crunk 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tim Buckley,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rotary Connection,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
MC5,
the Germs,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Christie,
The Standells,
Hot Snakes,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Hoover,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Sixth Finger,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-102,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blancmange,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Neil Young,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Lungfish,
Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.