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 Kyrgyzstan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Graham Central Station to the jazz 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Stetsasonic,
Yaz,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Marmalade,
Bad Manners,
Eric Copeland,
FM Einheit,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
Pere Ubu,
Shoche,
Bill Near,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
Hasil Adkins,
Mr. Review,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
48th St. Collective,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Tommy Roe,
Motorama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Standells,
Mission of Burma,
Althea and Donna,
Bronski Beat,
The Cramps,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minor Threat,
Ossler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
R.M.O.,
F. McDonald,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
KRS-One,
Roxette,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kas Product,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.