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 Vietnam and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 the Soft Cell to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
kango's stein massive,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Wells,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Inner City,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Henry Cow,
The Associates,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Blake Baxter,
Clear Light,
Yaz,
Carl Craig,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Starr,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Main Source,
T.S.O.L.,
Soft Cell,
Make Up,
PIL,
Niagra,
Delta 5,
MDC,
World's Most,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Porter Ricks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Von Mondo,
Pantytec,
Boz Scaggs,
Skaos,
June Days,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed,
Byron Stingily,
Moss Icon,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Thee Headcoats,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Aural Exciters,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.