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 Madagascar and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Lalann to the crunk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Machine,
D'Angelo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
Spandau Ballet,
The Birthday Party,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Derrick Morgan,
Joy Division,
Anthony Braxton,
The Misunderstood,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
Lindisfarne,
Grey Daturas,
The Seeds,
The Victims,
Robert Görl,
Gang Green,
Black Pus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Halsall,
Simply Red,
Ludus,
Pantytec,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Sonics,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
The Star Department,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Raincoats,
Man Eating Sloth,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
Hoover,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arcadia,
Gichy Dan,
World's Most,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Erasure,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Massinfluence,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pussy Galore,
Minutemen,
Morten Harket,
Ice-T,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.