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 Mexico and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Byron Stingily to the rock 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
Gang of Four,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
Janne Schatter,
Sparks,
Todd Terry,
Scion,
Stiv Bators,
Cymande,
The Move,
Joe Finger,
Yazoo,
a-ha,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Parry Music,
Maurizio,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smiths,
Qualms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers,
Junior Murvin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Goldenarms,
Curtis Mayfield,
Al Stewart,
Stetsasonic,
The Standells,
Urselle,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Bad Manners,
Kaleidoscope,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
Mars,
Loose Ends,
Connie Case,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Beau Brummels,
Symarip,
Sarah Menescal,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
Mad Mike,
Joy Division,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.