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 Australia and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
The Gories,
Jandek,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Deadbeat,
Loose Ends,
Dave Gahan,
Mars,
Ludus,
Sällskapet,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
the Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rekid,
Cameo,
Andrew Hill,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Almond,
Interpol,
Prince Buster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
10cc,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Audionom,
U.S. Maple,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barbara Tucker,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Television Personalities,
Black Pus,
Crime,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
Circle Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agent Orange,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Zapp,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.