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 Guinea-Bissau and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Roxette to the crunk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
JFA,
CMW,
Deadbeat,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
Hasil Adkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
June Days,
K-Klass,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aaron Thompson,
Sound Behaviour,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
Q and Not U,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Grey Daturas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
Dark Day,
The Tremeloes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eli Mardock,
Hardrive,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sight & Sound,
the Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mo-Dettes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
The Standells,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.