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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 David Bowie to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
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,
MDC,
Can,
Public Enemy,
Alice Coltrane,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
Siglo XX,
Deepchord,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Adolescents,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
Ronan,
Grey Daturas,
OOIOO,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Con Funk Shun,
The Skatalites,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric Dolphy,
Rod Modell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Ponytail,
John Foxx,
Quando Quango,
The Fortunes,
Cymande,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
Ludus,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Zero Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
The Cowsills,
Bizarre Inc.,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.