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 Malaysia and from Toronto.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Walker Brothers to the grime 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Sight & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Robert Hood,
Brick,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ten City,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Suicide,
Massinfluence,
Nick Fraelich,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
Althea and Donna,
John Lydon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blossom Toes,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roger Hodgson,
Morten Harket,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Aswad,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Magma,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.