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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eyeless In Gaza 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
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,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Television,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glambeats Corp.,
Graham Central Station,
Jacques Brel,
John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suicide,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
Q65,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick Morgan,
Wire,
Delon & Dalcan,
Livin' Joy,
Funkadelic,
Ornette Coleman,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Yazoo,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Icehouse,
Kerrie Biddell,
James White and The Blacks,
Quando Quango,
The Doors,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grey Daturas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sixth Finger,
Easy Going,
Nico,
Kayak,
Juan Atkins,
the Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doobie Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
The Beau Brummels,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
Morten Harket,
Bauhaus,
The Buckinghams,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.