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 Samoa and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Martian to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ten City,
Ultravox,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Young Rascals,
Sam Rivers,
The Five Americans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
FM Einheit,
Metal Thangz,
Idris Muhammad,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
Scott Walker,
Depeche Mode,
The Wake,
Patti Smith,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
Hot Snakes,
Urselle,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ohio Players,
The Mojo Men,
Underground Resistance,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donald Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
DJ Style,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Television Personalities,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
Siglo XX,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Sister Nancy,
Sixth Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül,
This Heat,
Peter & Gordon,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Wire,
Skarface,
Robert Hood,
The Moody Blues,
Sandy B,
Clear Light,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.