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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Minny Pops,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
Harmonia,
DJ Sneak,
The Young Rascals,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
Sound Behaviour,
Livin' Joy,
F. McDonald,
Drexciya,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Barracudas,
Suicide,
Byron Stingily,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
Soulsonic Force,
Khruangbin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Buzzcocks,
the Bar-Kays,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
Radiohead,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Beau Brummels,
The Moody Blues,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quadrant,
Rapeman,
Fatback Band,
Howard Jones,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
10cc,
Tim Buckley,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
Youth Brigade,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alison Limerick,
Lightning Bolt,
Metal Thangz,
ABBA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.