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 Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
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 marimba 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 Kurtis Blow 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Moss Icon,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Sällskapet,
Dead Boys,
Half Japanese,
Lucky Dragons,
Organ,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Wyatt,
Excepter,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
The Happenings,
Niagra,
Nico,
Silicon Teens,
Groovy Waters,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
Pantytec,
Brick,
CMW,
Jeff Mills,
Spandau Ballet,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New Order,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Buzzcocks,
The Gories,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rakim,
cv313,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
Little Man,
Banda Bassotti,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
Erasure,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül II,
Black Sheep,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.