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 Romania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kas Product to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Star Department,
Lebanon Hanover,
Trumans Water,
Archie Shepp,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Piero Umiliani,
Flash Fearless,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
Moss Icon,
The Count Five,
Sister Nancy,
Cybotron,
T.S.O.L.,
The Remains,
Intrusion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tres Demented,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cowsills,
Spoonie Gee,
The United States of America,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Man Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
The Martian,
Q65,
The American Breed,
the Sonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chrome,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Adolescents,
Lindisfarne,
John Foxx,
the Human League,
The New Christs,
Scratch Acid,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
John Holt,
Ossler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
Scion,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.