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 Madagascar and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Parry Music to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
The Dirtbombs,
Rod Modell,
The Misunderstood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ossler,
Ituana,
The Zeros,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Count Five,
Tommy Roe,
Kaleidoscope,
E-Dancer,
Livin' Joy,
The Real Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
Magazine,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-102,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unwound,
New York Dolls,
Danielle Patucci,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nico,
MDC,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Rufus Thomas,
Eurythmics,
Hot Snakes,
Average White Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minutemen,
The Human League,
Andrew Hill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Icehouse,
Funkadelic,
The Offenders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.