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 Bolivia and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Vladislav Delay,
Los Fastidios,
Faust,
Stereo Dub,
The Litter,
Whodini,
The Motions,
Tommy Roe,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
Harmonia,
the Association,
The Fortunes,
Fela Kuti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
The Pretty Things,
Soul II Soul,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bush Tetras,
Skarface,
Eddi Front,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
Minny Pops,
Gastr Del Sol,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Kayak,
Marine Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
Unwound,
Fat Boys,
Sixth Finger,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
Depeche Mode,
Junior Murvin,
The Slits,
Tubeway Army,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
Organ,
Goldenarms,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.