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 Kazakhstan and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Bobby Sherman to the dance 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Hood,
Suburban Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faust,
T. Rex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mars,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Pus,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Bad Manners,
Lalo Schifrin,
DNA,
Yazoo,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
Agent Orange,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
The Star Department,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
Shoche,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blake Baxter,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ohio Players,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
Junior Murvin,
Dave Gahan,
The Smoke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Kayak,
The American Breed,
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Inner City,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Human League,
The Fortunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.