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 Czech Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Eden Ahbez,
Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mission of Burma,
Pulsallama,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Gang of Four,
F. McDonald,
EPMD,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cybotron,
Mad Mike,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ronan,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Quando Quango,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
Silicon Teens,
Absolute Body Control,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Niagra,
Moebius,
New York Dolls,
Interpol,
Pantytec,
The Saints,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Erasure,
Dennis Brown,
48th St. Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Byron Stingily,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Lou Christie,
Organ,
L. Decosne,
Bad Manners,
Trumans Water,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.