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 Colombia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dual Sessions to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet 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 rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ossler,
Section 25,
Nik Kershaw,
X-102,
Mantronix,
Black Flag,
Whodini,
cv313,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Symarip,
Simply Red,
The Busters,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pretty Things,
The New Christs,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Davy DMX,
Parry Music,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
Vainqueur,
Das Ding,
Eden Ahbez,
Tim Buckley,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
Young Marble Giants,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
Chris & Cosey,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Moebius,
Mo-Dettes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
Jawbox,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
Mars,
DNA,
Chrome,
The Zeros,
The Cramps,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.