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 Malawi and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 Popol Vuh to the funk 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
the Slits,
Neil Young,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Alphaville,
Television,
Parry Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blake Baxter,
Inner City,
Judy Mowatt,
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang On A Can,
Arab on Radar,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
Marmalade,
Thee Headcoats,
Stereo Dub,
Soul II Soul,
Khruangbin,
Theoretical Girls,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
kango's stein massive,
Colin Newman,
Yaz,
Mantronix,
The Neon Judgement,
The Litter,
Animal Collective,
Flipper,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Little Man,
Angry Samoans,
Pere Ubu,
Supertramp,
The Cowsills,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Chrome,
The Misunderstood,
Slick Rick,
X-101,
Hashim,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.