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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 The Grass Roots to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet 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 Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Quadrant,
Sun City Girls,
June Days,
Danielle Patucci,
Spandau Ballet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sarah Menescal,
Bad Manners,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kerri Chandler,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Little Man,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Mr. Review,
The Divine Comedy,
Eden Ahbez,
Motorama,
A Certain Ratio,
Amon Düül II,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mummies,
The Moleskins,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
The Litter,
Swans,
Amazonics,
Gang Starr,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
Anthony Braxton,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Halsall,
Public Enemy,
Young Marble Giants,
Procol Harum,
Kaleidoscope,
The Searchers,
Mandrill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chrome,
Radiohead,
Byron Stingily,
Lalann,
Moebius,
Kenny Larkin,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.