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 Angola and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hardrive to the crunk 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
Nas,
Excepter,
Los Fastidios,
DJ Sneak,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
The Blues Magoos,
Deadbeat,
Eden Ahbez,
Faraquet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Henry Cow,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gong,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Goldenarms,
Rod Modell,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Michelle Simonal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronan,
Wasted Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nils Olav,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
The Trojans,
Thompson Twins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moby Grape,
Urselle,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
The Evens,
Section 25,
Grey Daturas,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.