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 El Salvador and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Clear Light to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Technova,
Rufus Thomas,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Camberwell Now,
Lakeside,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
Flash Fearless,
Alison Limerick,
Kas Product,
Pulsallama,
Niagra,
Piero Umiliani,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blackbyrds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
New Order,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smiths,
Matthew Bourne,
Guru Guru,
Vainqueur,
L. Decosne,
The Tremeloes,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Halsall,
Qualms,
The Neon Judgement,
The Raincoats,
Ice-T,
Skaos,
Mad Mike,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Outsiders,
Ituana,
David McCallum,
Joey Negro,
Ultravox,
Rod Modell,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.