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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Groovy Waters to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacob Miller,
John Coltrane,
X-101,
Circle Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
The Motions,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drexciya,
The Move,
The American Breed,
Charles Mingus,
Ultra Naté,
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Guru Guru,
Barbara Tucker,
The Raincoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cowsills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tim Buckley,
H. Thieme,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
The Star Department,
Niagra,
Depeche Mode,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonic Youth,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Blues Magoos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Velvet Underground,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
Au Pairs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brick,
Eli Mardock,
Newcleus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
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.