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 East Timor and from New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Grey Daturas to the crunk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Talk Talk,
Graham Central Station,
The Walker Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
The Human League,
Pagans,
Gang of Four,
Yellowson,
Donald Byrd,
the Association,
The Monochrome Set,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sarah Menescal,
Darondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
Harmonia,
Silicon Teens,
CMW,
ABBA,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Robert Görl,
Alison Limerick,
Kas Product,
The Moleskins,
Masters at Work,
Public Enemy,
Shuggie Otis,
Cheater Slicks,
Tim Buckley,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Scion,
Suicide,
MDC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sonic Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boz Scaggs,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Interpol,
Black Bananas,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.