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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Steve Hackett to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '90s.
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 Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
The Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
The Blackbyrds,
KRS-One,
Basic Channel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Audionom,
Rosa Yemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Flipper,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
UT,
The Barracudas,
Duran Duran,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
Flash Fearless,
Eli Mardock,
Livin' Joy,
One Last Wish,
R.M.O.,
Interpol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q65,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
Nas,
Nico,
Gang Green,
Scion,
The Techniques,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Wells,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.