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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator 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 The Dead C to the grunge 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Buckinghams,
Spoonie Gee,
The Stooges,
Technova,
Faraquet,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
The Standells,
Bobby Byrd,
Television,
Brass Construction,
Harmonia,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smiths,
Lou Christie,
E-Dancer,
Interpol,
The Moleskins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jacques Brel,
Q65,
John Holt,
Jandek,
Bad Manners,
Sällskapet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delta 5,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Motions,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
Eurythmics,
Eric Copeland,
Lyres,
Connie Case,
Freddie Wadling,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Minutemen,
Gong,
Black Pus,
Black Bananas,
Buzzcocks,
Soulsonic Force,
Scion,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.