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 Russia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Parrish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Motions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
the Bar-Kays,
Model 500,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Monolake,
Idris Muhammad,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
Magazine,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Funkadelic,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen,
The Pretty Things,
Judy Mowatt,
Unwound,
Vladislav Delay,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Infiniti,
The Blackbyrds,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hot Snakes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joe Finger,
Bad Manners,
Lalo Schifrin,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
Bauhaus,
Smog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rufus Thomas,
Chris & Cosey,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
Deadbeat,
The Shadows of Knight,
David McCallum,
Bobby Womack,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.