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 Belize and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 The Gladiators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Marc Almond,
The Last Poets,
Angry Samoans,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wolf Eyes,
Circle Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
The Motions,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Deadbeat,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vainqueur,
The Names,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
Howard Jones,
The Pop Group,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultimate Spinach,
U.S. Maple,
Ludus,
Negative Approach,
Arcadia,
Babytalk,
Joe Smooth,
The Residents,
Alice Coltrane,
10cc,
Terrestrial Tones,
Erasure,
Todd Rundgren,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Liliput,
The Happenings,
Yellowson,
Trumans Water,
Sex Pistols,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.