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 India and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Gong,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Terry Callier,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Lydon,
Ultravox,
Main Source,
Suicide,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Niagra,
Nick Fraelich,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlback,
One Last Wish,
Barclay James Harvest,
cv313,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quantec,
The Move,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
Supertramp,
Excepter,
The Skatalites,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Victims,
Mantronix,
Faraquet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
The Smoke,
U.S. Maple,
Metal Thangz,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glambeats Corp.,
Model 500,
The Residents,
Surgeon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Q65,
ABC,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Al Stewart,
Lou Christie,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.