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 Zambia and from New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sonny Sharrock to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
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,
Index,
Moby Grape,
Junior Murvin,
Alison Limerick,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Intrusion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Babytalk,
Animal Collective,
World's Most,
New Order,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
Whodini,
Fluxion,
The Offenders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Yusef Lateef,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scrapy,
Accadde A,
The Slits,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Groovy Waters,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Ossler,
Chrome,
Qualms,
Scientists,
Ultra Naté,
Funkadelic,
Mars,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Associates,
The Smiths,
Skarface,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harmonia,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marmalade,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.