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 Afghanistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 One Last Wish to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
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,
The Moleskins,
Nirvana,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Almond,
Con Funk Shun,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hot Snakes,
Grauzone,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Five Americans,
Qualms,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Donald Byrd,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
Boredoms,
The Monks,
Joy Division,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Altered Images,
New Order,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Pus,
the Human League,
John Lydon,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blackbyrds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marine Girls,
The Searchers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ponytail,
Derrick May,
Al Stewart,
John Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
The Young Rascals,
Ronnie Foster,
the Germs,
Jeff Mills,
China Crisis,
James White and The Blacks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barbara Tucker,
Cybotron,
kango's stein massive,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
Marvin Gaye,
Fad Gadget,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.