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 Tonga and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the funk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Brick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
Theoretical Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camberwell Now,
Neil Young,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Finger,
The Modern Lovers,
The Grass Roots,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Half Japanese,
The Selecter,
Essential Logic,
Black Sheep,
The Index,
Black Flag,
Ten City,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
MDC,
Whodini,
the Association,
Easy Going,
The Evens,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
Depeche Mode,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
The Moleskins,
Parry Music,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Wake,
Delta 5,
Wings,
The Birthday Party,
MC5,
Q65,
Kaleidoscope,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantaleimon,
Icehouse,
Bill Wells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arab on Radar,
a-ha,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.