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 Jordan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Loose Ends to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neu!,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
Tears for Fears,
Reuben Wilson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gladiators,
Boredoms,
Technova,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amon Düül II,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Heaven 17,
One Last Wish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Motorama,
Black Bananas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
The Blackbyrds,
Steve Hackett,
The Grass Roots,
Terry Callier,
Parry Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Panda Bear,
Judy Mowatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Almond,
Dead Boys,
Oblivians,
Babytalk,
Wasted Youth,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hashim,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Franke,
T.S.O.L.,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Moon,
Marmalade,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Liliput,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.