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 Oman and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cure 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
the Bar-Kays,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deakin,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
June of 44,
Dave Gahan,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlback,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
The Count Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
Rotary Connection,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Davy DMX,
Ultra Naté,
Youth Brigade,
Terry Callier,
Gong,
Lebanon Hanover,
In Retrospect,
Sight & Sound,
Supertramp,
The Invisible,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Byron Stingily,
Khruangbin,
Flipper,
The Residents,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
Unwound,
Zapp,
The Standells,
The Human League,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barry Ungar,
Joensuu 1685,
Yazoo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monks,
Albert Ayler,
Thee Headcoats,
Roy Ayers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.