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 Barbados and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rap 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Sugar Minott,
D'Angelo,
Swell Maps,
The Raincoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Certain Ratio,
Freddie Wadling,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
Brass Construction,
Derrick May,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Grey Daturas,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hashim,
DJ Sneak,
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
Dark Day,
Sällskapet,
Essential Logic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
The Gories,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Rosa Yemen,
Slick Rick,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Amon Düül II,
48th St. Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faust,
Graham Central Station,
The Evens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quantec,
Smog,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
The Move,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fortunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Swans,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.