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 Monaco and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 U.S. Maple to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
The Black Dice,
Dead Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Boredoms,
Subhumans,
Boz Scaggs,
Nils Olav,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harmonia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Archie Shepp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Leonard Cohen,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
The Trojans,
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
Eli Mardock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Hoover,
New Order,
Arcadia,
Eric Copeland,
The Shadows of Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Soul II Soul,
Easy Going,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Sherman,
China Crisis,
Animal Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Surgeon,
Franke,
The Move,
Minor Threat,
Crime,
Michelle Simonal,
Rekid,
Television,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.