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 Australia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Pretty Things to the rap 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Scratch Acid,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Country Teasers,
Oneida,
Minny Pops,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sällskapet,
Chrome,
Spandau Ballet,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
The Cure,
Prince Buster,
Leonard Cohen,
PIL,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Grass Roots,
Bluetip,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Grauzone,
Trumans Water,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
Jacob Miller,
Intrusion,
Niagra,
Nas,
Sun City Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hasil Adkins,
John Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Whodini,
Rod Modell,
Scan 7,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.