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 Romania 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 The Human League to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Flipper,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Amon Düül II,
Mars,
Pulsallama,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Bar-Kays,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sarah Menescal,
Pole,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lungfish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Finger,
Erykah Badu,
Sonic Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Albert Ayler,
Lyres,
Shoche,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dark Day,
The Gladiators,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
The Searchers,
Scrapy,
Fad Gadget,
Harry Pussy,
The Evens,
June of 44,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.