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 Papua New Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco 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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Wire,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Barracudas,
Dual Sessions,
Whodini,
Glenn Branca,
Funkadelic,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Youth Brigade,
Audionom,
The Count Five,
Faust,
the Human League,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sound,
Excepter,
Make Up,
Spandau Ballet,
Shuggie Otis,
JFA,
Joe Finger,
Lakeside,
Minor Threat,
Prince Buster,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
The Litter,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
Panda Bear,
Delta 5,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swell Maps,
The Young Rascals,
UT,
The Evens,
DNA,
T. Rex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dark Day,
Bauhaus,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yaz,
EPMD,
Guru Guru,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.