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 China and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Zapp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
Moebius,
Kool Moe Dee,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
Minutemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
Unwound,
the Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Eve St. Jones,
Kas Product,
The Misunderstood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Khruangbin,
Oblivians,
Ice-T,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barrington Levy,
John Lydon,
The Sonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
Funkadelic,
Judy Mowatt,
Index,
Drexciya,
Danielle Patucci,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magazine,
The Last Poets,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
The Skatalites,
Tomorrow,
CMW,
Camberwell Now,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacques Brel,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Count Five,
Erykah Badu,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.