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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Clear Light to the crunk 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
Supertramp,
Swans,
T. Rex,
Sight & Sound,
Excepter,
Second Layer,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jawbox,
Monolake,
Wasted Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Blancmange,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Selecter,
The Slackers,
Blossom Toes,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Stetsasonic,
Wally Richardson,
Ohio Players,
Boredoms,
David Axelrod,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
The Mummies,
Outsiders,
The Neon Judgement,
Lyres,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
Boogie Down Productions,
CMW,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Unrelated Segments,
Joyce Sims,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.