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 Djibouti and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the techno 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Japan,
Mars,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
Sandy B,
Moss Icon,
Lyres,
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Near,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
The Litter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Average White Band,
Lalann,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
World's Most,
Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Das Ding,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David Axelrod,
Wings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Connie Case,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül,
Negative Approach,
X-101,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bauhaus,
Bob Dylan,
Barbara Tucker,
The Misunderstood,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.