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 Paraguay and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Young Marble Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Eric Copeland,
Stereo Dub,
The Residents,
X-101,
June of 44,
Television Personalities,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
X-102,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
The Trojans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skaos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Fat Boys,
The Cramps,
One Last Wish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Eurythmics,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Young Marble Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
D'Angelo,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Slave,
The Real Kids,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Soft Cell,
The Wake,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
L. Decosne,
R.M.O.,
Black Sheep,
Easy Going,
Jeff Lynne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Oneida,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wasted Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
Masters at Work,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.