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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Suicide to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Bronski Beat,
Soft Machine,
Easy Going,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
Suicide,
DJ Style,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
These Immortal Souls,
Cluster,
The Real Kids,
The Fortunes,
Lalann,
Moss Icon,
Leonard Cohen,
The Zeros,
The Tremeloes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fear,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
Khruangbin,
Qualms,
Essential Logic,
Junior Murvin,
Niagra,
Arab on Radar,
The Move,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lindisfarne,
Althea and Donna,
The Star Department,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sonics,
Blancmange,
Dark Day,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
Soulsonic Force,
DNA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red,
Glambeats Corp.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.