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 Cyprus and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Q65 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Radio Birdman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Music Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blues Magoos,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Prunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Organ,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
The Walker Brothers,
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cameo,
Minutemen,
Niagra,
Althea and Donna,
Make Up,
Faraquet,
H. Thieme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bauhaus,
Blossom Toes,
Whodini,
DJ Sneak,
Alison Limerick,
Isaac Hayes,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fugs,
R.M.O.,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
Wolf Eyes,
Yellowson,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Shadows of Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Talk Talk,
K-Klass,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marine Girls,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.