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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Whodini to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Symarip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Janne Schatter,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
Rosa Yemen,
Infiniti,
This Heat,
Dave Gahan,
Masters at Work,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scratch Acid,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Skarface,
Crooked Eye,
Thee Headcoats,
Sixth Finger,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Flag,
Japan,
Magma,
Negative Approach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lyres,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harmonia,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.