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 Kyrgyzstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mr. Review to the punk 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Avey Tare,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Gabor Szabo,
Archie Shepp,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Don Cherry,
Can,
The Gladiators,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Junior Murvin,
the Association,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Organ,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Judy Mowatt,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
Jandek,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lyres,
Arthur Verocai,
Metal Thangz,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
The Real Kids,
Jawbox,
kango's stein massive,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Au Pairs,
U.S. Maple,
Procol Harum,
Agitation Free,
Duran Duran,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cybotron,
The Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Marvin Gaye,
Alton Ellis,
Skaos,
Joey Negro,
James White and The Blacks,
Ornette Coleman,
Dark Day,
Excepter,
Pulsallama,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
Simply Red,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.