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 Korea North and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lucky Dragons to the grunge 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Busters,
Hashim,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
Aural Exciters,
The Happenings,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Cymande,
Hardrive,
Rhythm & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Henry Cow,
the Swans,
Simply Red,
Faraquet,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour,
the Bar-Kays,
Youth Brigade,
the Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
The Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Los Fastidios,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Offenders,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
Warren Ellis,
the Normal,
Technova,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deepchord,
Cameo,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monochrome Set,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Last Poets,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.