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 New Zealand and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
H. Thieme,
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
The Gladiators,
ABBA,
Cal Tjader,
Second Layer,
Deakin,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
the Sonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Faust,
Warren Ellis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angry Samoans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alphaville,
Todd Terry,
UT,
Dark Day,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
The Residents,
Skarface,
Subhumans,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
AZ,
Kerri Chandler,
The Pretty Things,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thompson Twins,
the Germs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mo-Dettes,
Piero Umiliani,
KRS-One,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
Blancmange,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.