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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 June of 44 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
The Martian,
Ohio Players,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Minor Threat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacques Brel,
Television Personalities,
Steve Hackett,
La Düsseldorf,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
Flamin' Groovies,
Toni Rubio,
Accadde A,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Holt,
Gichy Dan,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman,
Parry Music,
DJ Style,
Yazoo,
New York Dolls,
Adolescents,
June of 44,
Blancmange,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alton Ellis,
Motorama,
Sound Behaviour,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
Qualms,
Mission of Burma,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wolf Eyes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dead Boys,
Trumans Water,
The Real Kids,
Lou Christie,
Dark Day,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.