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 Czech Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Can to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eve St. Jones,
Hot Snakes,
The Black Dice,
Cybotron,
Aswad,
The Slackers,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Cal Tjader,
Yazoo,
Roy Ayers,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
John Cale,
Sight & Sound,
Clear Light,
the Human League,
Lyres,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Motions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Christie,
Los Fastidios,
Lucky Dragons,
John Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
La Düsseldorf,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
Altered Images,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marmalade,
ABC,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Soul II Soul,
Dennis Brown,
One Last Wish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Smiths,
Dead Boys,
LL Cool J,
Shuggie Otis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bob Dylan,
U.S. Maple,
Moebius,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nas,
Pussy Galore,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.