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 Estonia and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Susan Cadogan to the punk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
the Association,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
The Misunderstood,
Aloha Tigers,
K-Klass,
June of 44,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
Siglo XX,
The Buckinghams,
A Certain Ratio,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Wire,
The New Christs,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
Harry Pussy,
Sarah Menescal,
Jandek,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
Sight & Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
Morten Harket,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.