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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the grunge 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads 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?
T. Rex,
Amon Düül II,
The Busters,
Sällskapet,
Pole,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
In Retrospect,
Roger Hodgson,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Names,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
Warsaw,
New York Dolls,
Ultravox,
Janne Schatter,
Agitation Free,
Bill Near,
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
Scion,
Supertramp,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moleskins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Martian,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sonic Youth,
Q65,
Lou Christie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moss Icon,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
Sugar Minott,
Quadrant,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lightning Bolt,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Pus,
The Toasters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Zeros,
Darondo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
Zapp,
Aaron Thompson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed,
Arthur Verocai,
Todd Rundgren,
Mars,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.