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 Honduras and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Young Rascals to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oblivians,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Magazine,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bush Tetras,
Delta 5,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Vladislav Delay,
Neil Young,
Quadrant,
Aaron Thompson,
Lungfish,
The Gories,
Blancmange,
Wasted Youth,
The Count Five,
Gang of Four,
The Martian,
B.T. Express,
Black Moon,
John Cale,
The Residents,
Boredoms,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dawn Penn,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
The Raincoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eli Mardock,
Duran Duran,
Black Flag,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Ossler,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Swell Maps,
Q65,
a-ha,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun City Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Babytalk,
Ituana,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Excepter,
Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Danielle Patucci,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.