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 Gabon and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crooked Eye to the punk 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman,
Tears for Fears,
Stiv Bators,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
The Smiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Flipper,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Steve Hackett,
Crime,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deakin,
Soulsonic Force,
Mo-Dettes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
Trumans Water,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
cv313,
The Monks,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fear,
Thompson Twins,
The Cowsills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Banda Bassotti,
Pierre Henry,
Donny Hathaway,
Dawn Penn,
Royal Trux,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Outsiders,
Pulsallama,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
Bronski Beat,
Section 25,
Radiohead,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Faust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glenn Branca,
L. Decosne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gap Band,
Bang On A Can,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.