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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Banda Bassotti to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans,
Cal Tjader,
Sun Ra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Scott Walker,
The Angels of Light,
Faraquet,
Pussy Galore,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Pus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Piero Umiliani,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Reuben Wilson,
PIL,
This Heat,
Barrington Levy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deakin,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The J.B.'s,
Saccharine Trust,
Heaven 17,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eddi Front,
The Fortunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
Monks,
K-Klass,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
The Beau Brummels,
Negative Approach,
Pantaleimon,
The Velvet Underground,
Symarip,
Intrusion,
Black Bananas,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül II,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.