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 Japan and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 T. Rex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
Mars,
The Young Rascals,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
Ronan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
Adolescents,
Young Marble Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Swans,
Faust,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Be Bop Deluxe,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
Anakelly,
Dennis Brown,
Arthur Verocai,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Knickerbockers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
JFA,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Order,
Public Enemy,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Style,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.