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 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Chrome to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Crash Course in Science,
The Wake,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cecil Taylor,
Buzzcocks,
Laurel Aitken,
UT,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
a-ha,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Toasters,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roxette,
Terry Callier,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultravox,
Gregory Isaacs,
Urselle,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Finger,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Basic Channel,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
The Durutti Column,
The Cowsills,
Crime,
Y Pants,
The Buckinghams,
John Foxx,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sparks,
The Velvet Underground,
Ken Boothe,
Yaz,
Lightning Bolt,
Rekid,
Archie Shepp,
Hashim,
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.