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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mo-Dettes to the jazz 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Desert Stars,
Echospace,
Ten City,
Moebius,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Althea and Donna,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
John Foxx,
Dual Sessions,
Harry Pussy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Selecter,
Hashim,
Gang Starr,
The Golliwogs,
New Order,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radio Birdman,
Liliput,
Rod Modell,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick Morgan,
Joy Division,
Amazonics,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Dirtbombs,
Funky Four + One,
Pole,
Zapp,
Oblivians,
Gong,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fear,
Mars,
Gang Green,
The Raincoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Tears for Fears,
Eddi Front,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Roxette,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.