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 Afghanistan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Sight & Sound to the techno 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thee Headcoats,
Deakin,
Bobby Womack,
Pylon,
The Fugs,
The Cowsills,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
The Cramps,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
Black Flag,
Average White Band,
The Buckinghams,
Vladislav Delay,
Amazonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skarface,
Steve Hackett,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Lynne,
Shuggie Otis,
Model 500,
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Black Sheep,
The Gories,
Darondo,
Ken Boothe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fad Gadget,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cymande,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Human League,
Agent Orange,
AZ,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
Banda Bassotti,
Derrick May,
Wire,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hot Snakes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.