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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
James White and The Blacks,
Dawn Penn,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
Pussy Galore,
Newcleus,
Dave Gahan,
the Normal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
The Beau Brummels,
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
Sun City Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Swell Maps,
Boz Scaggs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Max Romeo,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
The Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Residents,
JFA,
Bauhaus,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
Suicide,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Groovy Waters,
Joy Division,
Moss Icon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ken Boothe,
Tomorrow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Quadrant,
The Gap Band,
Au Pairs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shoche,
cv313,
Vainqueur,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.