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 Vietnam and from Lagos.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Vainqueur to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
The Motions,
Intrusion,
X-102,
Terry Callier,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Bauhaus,
Simply Red,
Pierre Henry,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Busters,
Slave,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Real Kids,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fear,
the Human League,
Lakeside,
Morten Harket,
Pussy Galore,
Sugar Minott,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl,
Jandek,
Scan 7,
The Gladiators,
Fluxion,
Marc Almond,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
Public Image Ltd.,
Khruangbin,
Blancmange,
Desert Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Sparks,
Suicide,
Cybotron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
F. McDonald,
The Golliwogs,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.