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 Venezuela and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 David McCallum to the jazz 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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Idris Muhammad,
Slick Rick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Cluster,
Sonny Sharrock,
Outsiders,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
Barry Ungar,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bad Manners,
Hardrive,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Colin Newman,
Eli Mardock,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Susan Cadogan,
Arab on Radar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T. Rex,
Charles Mingus,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cowsills,
Country Teasers,
Soul II Soul,
David McCallum,
Joensuu 1685,
Q and Not U,
Parry Music,
Mandrill,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
The Misunderstood,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mummies,
Organ,
Black Flag,
Symarip,
Faust,
Alton Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
John Holt,
June of 44,
Reuben Wilson,
KRS-One,
UT,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.