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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
Peter & Gordon,
Deakin,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
Joy Division,
H. Thieme,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Excepter,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Depeche Mode,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
Reuben Wilson,
ABBA,
Todd Terry,
Josef K,
Lou Christie,
The Remains,
Joyce Sims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Q and Not U,
Scratch Acid,
Jacques Brel,
Cheater Slicks,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
Surgeon,
Man Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fear,
JFA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Green,
New York Dolls,
the Germs,
Skriet,
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
Archie Shepp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Chrome,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Slave,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q65,
Mission of Burma,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.