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 Guinea-Bissau and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Altered Images to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Magma,
New York Dolls,
Crispy Ambulance,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cowsills,
The Walker Brothers,
Subhumans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Royal Trux,
Lalann,
The Misunderstood,
Grauzone,
Circle Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Jawbox,
Al Stewart,
Pantaleimon,
Deakin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Five Americans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kas Product,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fela Kuti,
Juan Atkins,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Moss Icon,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
The Pretty Things,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pole,
The Smoke,
The Gories,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
Henry Cow,
Quando Quango,
Rakim,
Pantytec,
Sparks,
MDC,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
Connie Case,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
The Slackers,
Suburban Knight,
The Victims,
Youth Brigade,
The Sonics,
Lucky Dragons,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.