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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Tommy Roe to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Juan Atkins,
Cymande,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Hood,
Rapeman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
Siglo XX,
Joey Negro,
DJ Style,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
Franke,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Green,
the Slits,
Agitation Free,
One Last Wish,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tom Boy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sound,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
Delta 5,
The Index,
Judy Mowatt,
Pulsallama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Certain Ratio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
LL Cool J,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mummies,
Jawbox,
The Golliwogs,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Mars,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.