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 Switzerland and from Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Alton Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
Flipper,
Black Flag,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skaos,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
LL Cool J,
DJ Style,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
Brick,
Gil Scott Heron,
Motorama,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
the Bar-Kays,
The Black Dice,
Barbara Tucker,
Eli Mardock,
A Certain Ratio,
Qualms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Darondo,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
The Residents,
Todd Rundgren,
Thompson Twins,
Siglo XX,
Letta Mbulu,
John Cale,
Mars,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Mo-Dettes,
Zero Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
Sandy B,
Moss Icon,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.