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 Micronesia and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 J.B.'s to the dance 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
Bronski Beat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Buzzcocks,
Royal Trux,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy Collins,
Scion,
Outsiders,
Todd Terry,
Easy Going,
Altered Images,
Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Fela Kuti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faust,
Lower 48,
Unwound,
UT,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aaron Thompson,
Howard Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Janne Schatter,
Althea and Donna,
New Order,
Pierre Henry,
Desert Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Darondo,
Yazoo,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Judy Mowatt,
Pylon,
Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Smog,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Agitation Free,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tommy Roe,
The Modern Lovers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.