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 Namibia and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Real Kids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
the Germs,
Ronan,
Robert Görl,
Eric Dolphy,
The Blackbyrds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Underground Resistance,
The Moleskins,
Unrelated Segments,
Lindisfarne,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tubeway Army,
Moebius,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Machine,
China Crisis,
The Fall,
Gong,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
Blossom Toes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
X-102,
Pole,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Christie,
Rekid,
Sarah Menescal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bad Manners,
Ludus,
Pulsallama,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Massinfluence,
Accadde A,
Prince Buster,
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola,
One Last Wish,
Television,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Almond,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels,
Amazonics,
Aloha Tigers,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.