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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Minutemen to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Minutemen,
Quadrant,
Rekid,
Swans,
Motorama,
Ice-T,
The Moleskins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Residents,
Magazine,
Franke,
Lyres,
Gang Green,
The Mojo Men,
Wire,
Kas Product,
Tears for Fears,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Raincoats,
Dead Boys,
Q65,
Rotary Connection,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
Malaria!,
Livin' Joy,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
Supertramp,
Bluetip,
Intrusion,
In Retrospect,
John Holt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick Morgan,
Godley & Creme,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Pole,
John Foxx,
World's Most,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
China Crisis,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amon Düül,
Rod Modell,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.