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 Monaco and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 E-Dancer to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Reuben Wilson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sparks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
the Human League,
Babytalk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Remains,
Morten Harket,
Faust,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
Donald Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Drexciya,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scientists,
June of 44,
Severed Heads,
Erykah Badu,
Sun Ra,
The Grass Roots,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
The J.B.'s,
New York Dolls,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Los Fastidios,
The Gories,
David McCallum,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
Eddi Front,
John Coltrane,
Television,
Maurizio,
Infiniti,
Lucky Dragons,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Green,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sound,
Ituana,
Joe Smooth,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.