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 Sri Lanka and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the rap 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
PIL,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nico,
Ponytail,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronnie Foster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Suburban Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
Minor Threat,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
Ronan,
K-Klass,
Gong,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Aloha Tigers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Index,
T. Rex,
Simply Red,
Joy Division,
Unrelated Segments,
Derrick May,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
the Slits,
Depeche Mode,
The Fire Engines,
MDC,
Henry Cow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Barrington Levy,
New Age Steppers,
Accadde A,
Arab on Radar,
Mark Hollis,
The Invisible,
Byron Stingily,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.