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 Slovakia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the jazz 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Blossom Toes,
Deakin,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric Dolphy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Shuggie Otis,
Simply Red,
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Brick,
Rakim,
Accadde A,
Suicide,
Ludus,
Nils Olav,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Don Cherry,
John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Evens,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eve St. Jones,
ABBA,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
Scion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
B.T. Express,
The Angels of Light,
FM Einheit,
Sight & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Graham Central Station,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Rufus Thomas,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.