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 Hungary and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bill Wells to the grunge 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Lynne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Michelle Simonal,
Bizarre Inc.,
Q and Not U,
Sällskapet,
The Gap Band,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
The Remains,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radiohead,
Supertramp,
Aaron Thompson,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
ABBA,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Oblivians,
Brand Nubian,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joey Negro,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Graham Central Station,
Hashim,
Robert Hood,
The Names,
Mars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Clarke,
New Order,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.