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 Nepal and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Barracudas to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Knickerbockers,
Bluetip,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick May,
The Gun Club,
The Toasters,
Spoonie Gee,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats,
Lakeside,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
Jandek,
Absolute Body Control,
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
T.S.O.L.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
MC5,
The Monks,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
Rakim,
Ohio Players,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
Mission of Burma,
Smog,
Roy Ayers,
Mad Mike,
Silicon Teens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marvin Gaye,
Quando Quango,
Marmalade,
Arthur Verocai,
Skaos,
The Leaves,
Camberwell Now,
The Offenders,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Glenn Branca,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Starr,
Lou Christie,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.