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 Ghana and from Stockholm.
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 Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delta 5,
The Standells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott Heron,
Idris Muhammad,
Liliput,
Bluetip,
FM Einheit,
Prince Buster,
The Cure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
U.S. Maple,
Cybotron,
Alton Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Funky Four + One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
E-Dancer,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Nation of Ulysses,
Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
The Selecter,
Scion,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Spandau Ballet,
The Durutti Column,
Das Ding,
Jandek,
EPMD,
The Tremeloes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Residents,
Wire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
The Cramps,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Archie Shepp,
Sixth Finger,
Organ,
Bobby Sherman,
Model 500,
Ultra Naté,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.