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 St Lucia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Human League 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Qualms,
Chrome,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Mission of Burma,
Fugazi,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
Aaron Thompson,
John Cale,
Pagans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Outsiders,
Scientists,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Little Man,
Blossom Toes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Terry,
Ultravox,
Scratch Acid,
Parry Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
MDC,
Nik Kershaw,
AZ,
Chris Corsano,
OOIOO,
Jandek,
Crime,
Eden Ahbez,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pole,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
New York Dolls,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.