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 Colombia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Yazoo to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
David Bowie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
The Durutti Column,
The Stooges,
The Dead C,
Talk Talk,
Ornette Coleman,
Nick Fraelich,
The Real Kids,
Kas Product,
New York Dolls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Half Japanese,
The Residents,
Iggy Pop,
Dennis Brown,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic,
Camberwell Now,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Cale,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
Joe Smooth,
Can,
Symarip,
Roxy Music,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scott Walker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Victims,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smiths,
Susan Cadogan,
The Trojans,
Chrome,
the Soft Cell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.