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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 This Heat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Excepter,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Unrelated Segments,
Graham Central Station,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Offenders,
Pagans,
Johnny Clarke,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Toni Rubio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Names,
Moebius,
X-Ray Spex,
Maleditus Sound,
Khruangbin,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moleskins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Holt,
The Red Krayola,
The Music Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
the Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cameo,
The Index,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blancmange,
ABBA,
Infiniti,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
Aswad,
Essential Logic,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
U.S. Maple,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.