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 Slovenia and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sister Nancy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Underground Resistance,
Urselle,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
The Velvet Underground,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
Janne Schatter,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
Junior Murvin,
Zapp,
Model 500,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Smog,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Wyatt,
The Toasters,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
Scratch Acid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Buckinghams,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Music Machine,
Unrelated Segments,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monochrome Set,
Yazoo,
Ten City,
Negative Approach,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Buzzcocks,
Amazonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
ABC,
Maleditus Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Infiniti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
Gong,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
Nico,
Groovy Waters,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.