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 Bulgaria and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Organ to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Model 500,
Sugar Minott,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Motions,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
Guru Guru,
Yazoo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gladiators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
Marc Almond,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
Half Japanese,
Pet Shop Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
Ultimate Spinach,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eli Mardock,
U.S. Maple,
Archie Shepp,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Outsiders,
Dave Gahan,
Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lungfish,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Hardrive,
Minnie Riperton,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.