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 Guyana and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ 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 The Raincoats to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Terry,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Mandrill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Red Krayola,
Blancmange,
Technova,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fortunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Animal Collective,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cymande,
The Invisible,
Siglo XX,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
Piero Umiliani,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
Nas,
Lee Hazlewood,
D'Angelo,
Talk Talk,
The Young Rascals,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Index,
Country Teasers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rakim,
Colin Newman,
Stiv Bators,
Pylon,
Cluster,
Gong,
The Move,
Amon Düül,
OOIOO,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Pagans,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.