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 Liberia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the electroclash 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sex Pistols,
Cluster,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
8 Eyed Spy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fortunes,
The Martian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Swell Maps,
Robert Hood,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
Whodini,
Jandek,
The Standells,
David Bowie,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
The Saints,
Absolute Body Control,
The Angels of Light,
Patti Smith,
Rapeman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Real Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blancmange,
Simply Red,
Urselle,
Niagra,
Kayak,
MDC,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
Marine Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Toasters,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
John Foxx,
Arab on Radar,
Dark Day,
The Evens,
Funky Four + One,
Isaac Hayes,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.