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 Bhutan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Terry Callier to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
Urselle,
World's Most,
The Fugs,
Junior Murvin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Bill Near,
Masters at Work,
LL Cool J,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Suicide,
Schoolly D,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
The Skatalites,
Eurythmics,
Lou Christie,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül,
Monolake,
The Fall,
Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Malaria!,
Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
Wings,
Deakin,
Ituana,
Bush Tetras,
Juan Atkins,
D'Angelo,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blancmange,
Rapeman,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
Icehouse,
The United States of America,
the Bar-Kays,
Adolescents,
Morten Harket,
Colin Newman,
Essential Logic,
Suburban Knight,
Warsaw,
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.