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 Zimbabwe and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Theoretical Girls to the crunk 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
June of 44,
The Golliwogs,
Pulsallama,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Metal Thangz,
Scratch Acid,
Scan 7,
the Association,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
Barry Ungar,
Minnie Riperton,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eli Mardock,
Anakelly,
The Fuzztones,
MDC,
New Age Steppers,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Copeland,
Shoche,
The Remains,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Machine,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
ABC,
Japan,
Ultra Naté,
the Bar-Kays,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Circle Jerks,
The Saints,
Negative Approach,
The New Christs,
Trumans Water,
The Music Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Skatalites,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dead C,
The Misunderstood,
Spoonie Gee,
Au Pairs,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.