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 South Sudan and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Q65 to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Vladislav Delay,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cramps,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Bad Manners,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Public Enemy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
Darondo,
Ohio Players,
Wally Richardson,
Joyce Sims,
The Divine Comedy,
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Sneak,
The Modern Lovers,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronan,
Althea and Donna,
The Evens,
The Monochrome Set,
the Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Mad Mike,
Henry Cow,
The New Christs,
Whodini,
Soft Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Litter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Procol Harum,
The Move,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Liliput,
Ludus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thee Headcoats,
Zapp,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.