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 Ivory Coast and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Buzzcocks to the rock 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
The Seeds,
Leonard Cohen,
Max Romeo,
Robert Wyatt,
Nick Fraelich,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
Don Cherry,
the Association,
The Star Department,
Kaleidoscope,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pierre Henry,
Fugazi,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Graham Central Station,
Oblivians,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June Days,
The Searchers,
Second Layer,
Youth Brigade,
JFA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
Al Stewart,
Flash Fearless,
The Grass Roots,
New York Dolls,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Television,
Urselle,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Bobby Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Amazonics,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.