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 Solomon Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Can to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Parry Music,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Model 500,
Bobby Byrd,
Monks,
Lungfish,
Tommy Roe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Moon,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
FM Einheit,
Pierre Henry,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
David Bowie,
Gichy Dan,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Connie Case,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Little Man,
Sam Rivers,
Max Romeo,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
10cc,
Pet Shop Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monks,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Visage,
Bush Tetras,
The Buckinghams,
AZ,
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.