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 Comoros and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Stiv Bators,
Tommy Roe,
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
The Slackers,
Adolescents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Janne Schatter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bush Tetras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
AZ,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
Agent Orange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sarah Menescal,
Oneida,
Archie Shepp,
Steve Hackett,
Pussy Galore,
The Busters,
Scientists,
New York Dolls,
Mo-Dettes,
Althea and Donna,
Nik Kershaw,
Japan,
CMW,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ossler,
The Saints,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lou Reed,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Silicon Teens,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
Scratch Acid,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Moss Icon,
The Buckinghams,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
Accadde A,
Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Fear,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.