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 Jamaica and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bang On A Can to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Y Pants,
Minnie Riperton,
Cecil Taylor,
the Germs,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Audionom,
Fugazi,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Happenings,
Bobby Byrd,
The Saints,
Marc Almond,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick Morgan,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells,
Niagra,
Whodini,
Arcadia,
The Last Poets,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Excepter,
Half Japanese,
Ossler,
Hardrive,
Bobby Sherman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
The Invisible,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
Joe Finger,
Josef K,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
The Stooges,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
Toni Rubio,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.