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 Paraguay and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
Scrapy,
The United States of America,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moebius,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Iggy Pop,
Wings,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
Japan,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep,
Lyres,
Roger Hodgson,
Deepchord,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Pantytec,
Amazonics,
Hoover,
The Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nik Kershaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Subhumans,
The Busters,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
Darondo,
Yusef Lateef,
Cheater Slicks,
The Misunderstood,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
Maurizio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
Black Moon,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
The Velvet Underground,
AZ,
Tres Demented,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.