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 Singapore and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boz Scaggs to the dance 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
La Düsseldorf,
MC5,
Television,
World's Most,
The Busters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Negative Approach,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Wells,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crash Course in Science,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Fraelich,
Andrew Hill,
a-ha,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Young Rascals,
Ronan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Mills,
David Bowie,
Scientists,
Public Enemy,
Nils Olav,
Wolf Eyes,
Joyce Sims,
KRS-One,
Pole,
Dennis Brown,
Index,
Josef K,
the Soft Cell,
Yellowson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Carl Craig,
Darondo,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
The United States of America,
The Gladiators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Livin' Joy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Hood,
The Human League,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.