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 Italy and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Talk Talk to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Colin Newman,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Lynne,
Outsiders,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
Marvin Gaye,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Agitation Free,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter and Kerry,
Camberwell Now,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lower 48,
K-Klass,
Isaac Hayes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Blancmange,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
Yellowson,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra,
Section 25,
Peter & Gordon,
AZ,
Fluxion,
Ohio Players,
Davy DMX,
The Skatalites,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fortunes,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.