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 Burundi and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Suburban Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skriet,
Boz Scaggs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Spandau Ballet,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Kayak,
Bad Manners,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Nik Kershaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
Quadrant,
Chris Corsano,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dead Boys,
Mantronix,
CMW,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
a-ha,
Sun Ra,
The Names,
Banda Bassotti,
Aswad,
Black Flag,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Graham Central Station,
Tim Buckley,
The Last Poets,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T. Rex,
Peter and Kerry,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Max Romeo,
The Pretty Things,
Ornette Coleman,
Heaven 17,
Lightning Bolt,
Skarface,
Cheater Slicks,
Laurel Aitken,
Boredoms,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sound,
The Move,
Aural Exciters,
Cymande,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
Don Cherry,
Rod Modell,
David Bowie,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.