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 Croatia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Modern Lovers to the rock 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Count Five,
ABC,
Brick,
Spandau Ballet,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
Sun City Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris & Cosey,
Bauhaus,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Holt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultravox,
Howard Jones,
Susan Cadogan,
Ten City,
Unrelated Segments,
The Knickerbockers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Hashim,
Malaria!,
Nas,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Black Flag,
The Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
New York Dolls,
The Residents,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lucky Dragons,
Jandek,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
In Retrospect,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
One Last Wish,
Marine Girls,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.