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 Pakistan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Marine Girls to the jazz 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
Anthony Braxton,
Michelle Simonal,
The Five Americans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mantronix,
The Litter,
Spoonie Gee,
Bronski Beat,
Ponytail,
MC5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
Rosa Yemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
K-Klass,
The Stooges,
The United States of America,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Severed Heads,
The Trojans,
Urselle,
Black Flag,
Eddi Front,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
Trumans Water,
The Smiths,
the Germs,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zero Boys,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Chrome,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Godley & Creme,
Mark Hollis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Sixth Finger,
Babytalk,
Colin Newman,
Leonard Cohen,
Tears for Fears,
In Retrospect,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Piero Umiliani,
This Heat,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.