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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
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 Winnipeg and Seoul.
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 clarinet 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 Erasure to the dance 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland 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?
The Saints,
Clear Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pole,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
a-ha,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang of Four,
The Monks,
The Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young,
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funkadelic,
Archie Shepp,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Move,
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
Alphaville,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Index,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
JFA,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller,
Magma,
Darondo,
Los Fastidios,
Con Funk Shun,
Ituana,
Intrusion,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now,
Alton Ellis,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
Animal Collective,
Adolescents,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vainqueur,
Leonard Cohen,
Nils Olav,
Altered Images,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.