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 Burkina and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alarm Clocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Los Fastidios,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cluster,
Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
Massinfluence,
Chrome,
Brick,
The Searchers,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Laurel Aitken,
the Slits,
Gang Starr,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Motions,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soft Cell,
Skarface,
Easy Going,
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
Reuben Wilson,
Colin Newman,
Aural Exciters,
Tres Demented,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
The Move,
Ituana,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonic Youth,
Pantaleimon,
James White and The Blacks,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
Can,
The Star Department,
Crash Course in Science,
Bronski Beat,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.