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 Uruguay and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
Echospace,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock,
Magma,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Idris Muhammad,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cymande,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Joy Division,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Spoonie Gee,
Dawn Penn,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
kango's stein massive,
Quando Quango,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monks,
Little Man,
Animal Collective,
Cecil Taylor,
Wolf Eyes,
Blancmange,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Popol Vuh,
Schoolly D,
Gang of Four,
Black Flag,
Charles Mingus,
David Bowie,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
Radiohead,
Pussy Galore,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.