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 Malawi and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Marmalade 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
Aswad,
Symarip,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Main Source,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
Cheater Slicks,
Charles Mingus,
Sugar Minott,
Mars,
The Index,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gap Band,
The Trojans,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Negative Approach,
X-102,
Interpol,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
the Swans,
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Bananas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hoover,
U.S. Maple,
Bill Near,
Kas Product,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stereo Dub,
Thee Headcoats,
Unwound,
The Selecter,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Residents,
La Düsseldorf,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Standells,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.