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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Dual Sessions to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba 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 mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delta 5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick Morgan,
Henry Cow,
The Searchers,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jacques Brel,
Negative Approach,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
48th St. Collective,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
New York Dolls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers,
Bob Dylan,
Fugazi,
Ronan,
Moby Grape,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yusef Lateef,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABBA,
New Age Steppers,
Gang of Four,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
Alphaville,
Letta Mbulu,
Lyres,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Can,
Brick,
Lakeside,
Accadde A,
Connie Case,
Amazonics,
Infiniti,
Man Parrish,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.