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 Yemen and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Michael McDonald 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 Ronnie Foster to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Goldenarms,
Pantaleimon,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
Unwound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slick Rick,
The Divine Comedy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gories,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Donny Hathaway,
Qualms,
David McCallum,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang On A Can,
The Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Pus,
Hoover,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Gang Dance,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
Minor Threat,
Quadrant,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
FM Einheit,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Near,
Al Stewart,
Brick,
Fela Kuti,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
The Pop Group,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slits,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
Bobby Sherman,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.