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 Spain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mark Hollis to the crunk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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,
KRS-One,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Certain Ratio,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Franke,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crooked Eye,
Au Pairs,
Shoche,
Little Man,
Quantec,
Stetsasonic,
Gabor Szabo,
Urselle,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spoonie Gee,
The United States of America,
Sixth Finger,
The Searchers,
Godley & Creme,
Tomorrow,
Technova,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Niagra,
the Association,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
The Durutti Column,
Dual Sessions,
Quando Quango,
Fear,
Zero Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Surgeon,
The Walker Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Flag,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Deepchord,
Darondo,
Pere Ubu,
E-Dancer,
Accadde A,
Brick,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.