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 Sierra Leone and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Martian to the electroclash 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Funkadelic,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minutemen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gong,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mojo Men,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Interpol,
The United States of America,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
Main Source,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Talk Talk,
the Germs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quantec,
The Saints,
Joe Smooth,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Malaria!,
The Move,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DNA,
Minny Pops,
Maleditus Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
Freddie Wadling,
Spandau Ballet,
Joyce Sims,
Rites of Spring,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T. Rex,
Anthony Braxton,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.