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 Iran and from Manchester.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Cameo,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Television Personalities,
Tres Demented,
Scan 7,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-Ray Spex,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
Cal Tjader,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Can,
Scott Walker,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris Corsano,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Moebius,
The Divine Comedy,
Faust,
Amon Düül,
Guru Guru,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Parrish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang of Four,
The Pop Group,
Neu!,
Maleditus Sound,
Supertramp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mission of Burma,
Lakeside,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
F. McDonald,
Warsaw,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
Toni Rubio,
Little Man,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jawbox,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.