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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Marc Almond to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Gong,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Connie Case,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eurythmics,
B.T. Express,
Silicon Teens,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scientists,
Alphaville,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
Kayak,
Nico,
China Crisis,
Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Newcleus,
The Selecter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Doors,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siglo XX,
The Gladiators,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Piero Umiliani,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joy Division,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra,
Prince Buster,
The Monks,
Minutemen,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quadrant,
kango's stein massive,
The Move,
X-101,
Brass Construction,
Girls At Our Best!,
UT,
Whodini,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skaos,
Scrapy,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry's Kids,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul II Soul,
Fad Gadget,
The Vogues,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.