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 Algeria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 Peter and Kerry to the crunk 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes 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?
Index,
Leonard Cohen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pylon,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zapp,
Scott Walker,
Jacob Miller,
Alphaville,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
The American Breed,
The Human League,
Derrick May,
Von Mondo,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
Scion,
Agent Orange,
Lucky Dragons,
the Normal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monolake,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
the Association,
the Sonics,
Fluxion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra,
Fugazi,
Jeff Mills,
The Mojo Men,
Flipper,
Aswad,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cybotron,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Funkadelic,
Eric Copeland,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soft Cell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Massinfluence,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.