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 Andorra and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Monks to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Trumans Water,
Can,
The Fortunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gap Band,
Glenn Branca,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Zapp,
Tubeway Army,
Ronan,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Terry Callier,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Popol Vuh,
Panda Bear,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mars,
Arab on Radar,
Average White Band,
Pulsallama,
Scott Walker,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Toni Rubio,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Das Ding,
Gang of Four,
Lightning Bolt,
Minor Threat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Terry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dave Gahan,
Grey Daturas,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
The Black Dice,
The Motions,
Lower 48,
Lakeside,
The Offenders,
Wally Richardson,
Deadbeat,
The Busters,
Pagans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Smog,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.