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 Cambodia and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Faust to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Green,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hashim,
New Order,
Slick Rick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tears for Fears,
Panda Bear,
Nico,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
Joyce Sims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jawbox,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
Mr. Review,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tom Boy,
The Alarm Clocks,
H. Thieme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Los Fastidios,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America,
kango's stein massive,
The Knickerbockers,
Nik Kershaw,
Metal Thangz,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
Hardrive,
Heaven 17,
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
MDC,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.