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 El Salvador and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Ituana to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David McCallum,
Bauhaus,
Bob Dylan,
The Raincoats,
The Move,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang of Four,
Gichy Dan,
Bill Near,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alice Coltrane,
Toni Rubio,
Cameo,
Pantaleimon,
the Association,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pere Ubu,
X-Ray Spex,
Moebius,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris Corsano,
Bush Tetras,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kayak,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy Collins,
Carl Craig,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
The Litter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ken Boothe,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Rod Modell,
Rotary Connection,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skarface,
The Moody Blues,
Youth Brigade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mars,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.