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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 8 Eyed Spy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Drexciya,
Alphaville,
Smog,
L. Decosne,
Swans,
Moss Icon,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Velvet Underground,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
FM Einheit,
The Gun Club,
Darondo,
David Bowie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jandek,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Cymande,
Slave,
Mars,
Jerry's Kids,
Yaz,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Blackbyrds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Connie Case,
Prince Buster,
The Residents,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Depeche Mode,
Panda Bear,
The Star Department,
Janne Schatter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Simply Red,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Motions,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.