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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 The Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Cluster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
Hot Snakes,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Lungfish,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
X-102,
John Cale,
Lakeside,
Easy Going,
Eric Dolphy,
Roger Hodgson,
Rites of Spring,
Scan 7,
Flipper,
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Adolescents,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
The United States of America,
James White and The Blacks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eddi Front,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Talk Talk,
Ossler,
Magma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scion,
Fear,
The Beau Brummels,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Technova,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Jawbox,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
Inner City,
Ralphi Rosario,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.