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 Montenegro and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Human League to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suicide,
Jawbox,
Dual Sessions,
Bang On A Can,
The Slits,
Tears for Fears,
The Gun Club,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Busters,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
The Gories,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Techniques,
Peter & Gordon,
Mars,
Q and Not U,
The Beau Brummels,
Crash Course in Science,
Nas,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul II Soul,
Liliput,
Lalann,
Smog,
Funky Four + One,
Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Green,
Franke,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Lynne,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
the Slits,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Television,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sound Behaviour,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.