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 Nauru and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 UT to the crunk 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and an oboe 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 clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
the Bar-Kays,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Trojans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
The Red Krayola,
The Cramps,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barry Ungar,
Jawbox,
Kurtis Blow,
Loose Ends,
FM Einheit,
Black Sheep,
Mr. Review,
The Gladiators,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Hardrive,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Derrick May,
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kayak,
Arthur Verocai,
Scientists,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Tremeloes,
Iggy Pop,
Faust,
Ultra Naté,
The New Christs,
Pulsallama,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moby Grape,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Cale,
The Offenders,
X-101,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.