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 Libya and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
Pole,
Brick,
Rekid,
Barry Ungar,
Tears for Fears,
The Happenings,
The Motions,
Liliput,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Royal Trux,
The Leaves,
Cameo,
Godley & Creme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Qualms,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Half Japanese,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zapp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quadrant,
Harry Pussy,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
June of 44,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nils Olav,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gabor Szabo,
The Knickerbockers,
Donald Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gap Band,
Essential Logic,
The Mojo Men,
Sonic Youth,
The Invisible,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
Prince Buster,
Patti Smith,
Loose Ends,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.