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 Czech Republic and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Iggy Pop to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Livin' Joy,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Reagan Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
These Immortal Souls,
David Bowie,
Q65,
Outsiders,
Urselle,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quadrant,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mummies,
The Moleskins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neu!,
Gichy Dan,
Peter & Gordon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Duran Duran,
Delta 5,
Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
The Motions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Minnie Riperton,
Scratch Acid,
Sound Behaviour,
John Cale,
Main Source,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
Ponytail,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Suicide,
The Grass Roots,
Juan Atkins,
The Stooges,
Soul II Soul,
Crooked Eye,
Bang On A Can,
Half Japanese,
Quantec,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.