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 United States and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Qualms to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Suicide,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Fear,
Drive Like Jehu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
Minnie Riperton,
Hot Snakes,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kayak,
Delta 5,
Pole,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
X-101,
Aaron Thompson,
The Happenings,
James White and The Blacks,
Parry Music,
Bootsy Collins,
Yellowson,
The Dave Clark Five,
R.M.O.,
Liliput,
The Barracudas,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerrie Biddell,
June Days,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alphaville,
MDC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Grass Roots,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Cameo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donald Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oneida,
Amazonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.