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 Bahrain and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 The Flesh Eaters to the crunk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
cv313,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Niagra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Unwound,
Ultra Naté,
Bluetip,
The American Breed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker,
Quadrant,
Saccharine Trust,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Blake Baxter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tom Boy,
The Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dark Day,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
The Smiths,
Malaria!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
Mandrill,
Negative Approach,
L. Decosne,
Minor Threat,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
James White and The Blacks,
The Knickerbockers,
The Trojans,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Invisible,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eden Ahbez,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Loose Ends,
Al Stewart,
The Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.