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 Burkina and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 David Bowie to the grime 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Negative Approach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
Lyres,
Erykah Badu,
The Residents,
Albert Ayler,
Half Japanese,
The Fortunes,
Minor Threat,
The Velvet Underground,
The Happenings,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül,
The Music Machine,
David McCallum,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cluster,
Inner City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
Trumans Water,
Accadde A,
X-101,
AZ,
Delta 5,
Groovy Waters,
Second Layer,
Organ,
Ten City,
Kas Product,
Kayak,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Pantytec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
the Human League,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aswad,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Supertramp,
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.