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 Micronesia and from London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord 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 Prince Buster to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultravox,
Accadde A,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
Metal Thangz,
Y Pants,
Eric Dolphy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mr. Review,
Ultra Naté,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Joyce Sims,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Radiohead,
Jeru the Damaja,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boredoms,
Visage,
Al Stewart,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rosa Yemen,
James White and The Blacks,
Livin' Joy,
Blossom Toes,
Cheater Slicks,
Marine Girls,
Delta 5,
Half Japanese,
Warsaw,
Pierre Henry,
The Modern Lovers,
Con Funk Shun,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Rundgren,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pere Ubu,
The Buckinghams,
Skriet,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Barbara Tucker,
David Bowie,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.