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 Dominica and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cymande to the punk 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Arthur Verocai,
Minutemen,
June of 44,
Yaz,
The Fire Engines,
Faust,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Eurythmics,
World's Most,
Sonic Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang On A Can,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Green,
Maurizio,
Stetsasonic,
Hashim,
Thompson Twins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Stooges,
Colin Newman,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
Pulsallama,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultimate Spinach,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Morten Harket,
The Barracudas,
MC5,
Tom Boy,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
Can,
Infiniti,
the Normal,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
Bauhaus,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.