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 Honduras and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blossom Toes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Chrome,
Wolf Eyes,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crooked Eye,
The Saints,
Bill Near,
The Sound,
Radiohead,
Fugazi,
Hasil Adkins,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood,
Section 25,
Gong,
Infiniti,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Hardrive,
B.T. Express,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tres Demented,
Nik Kershaw,
DNA,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Barrington Levy,
Skriet,
Agent Orange,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Almond,
Stereo Dub,
Soulsonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
John Cale,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Finger,
Glenn Branca,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare,
Thompson Twins,
Aloha Tigers,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
The Gladiators,
Oblivians,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.