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 Greece and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Heaven 17 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
Alphaville,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Second Layer,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
Section 25,
the Association,
The Kinks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
Brick,
Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
Albert Ayler,
Crooked Eye,
One Last Wish,
Index,
The Invisible,
Delta 5,
The Selecter,
Arthur Verocai,
Fluxion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Loose Ends,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liliput,
Rekid,
Robert Wyatt,
Arab on Radar,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stiv Bators,
Ronan,
Symarip,
Colin Newman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blues Magoos,
Saccharine Trust,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.