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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Smoke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Godley & Creme,
Darondo,
D'Angelo,
Erykah Badu,
Anakelly,
Audionom,
Barry Ungar,
The Happenings,
Zero Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Ponytail,
ABC,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Thee Headcoats,
New Order,
Symarip,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Babytalk,
World's Most,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magma,
The Buckinghams,
John Cale,
Pylon,
Adolescents,
Siglo XX,
Howard Jones,
Spandau Ballet,
Underground Resistance,
The Slackers,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
The Mummies,
Neu!,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Hasil Adkins,
Maurizio,
Warren Ellis,
Scion,
Neil Young,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
Sarah Menescal,
Dark Day,
Ituana,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.