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 Macedonia and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Drexciya,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lungfish,
Alton Ellis,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Cluster,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
Chrome,
Arcadia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
Bang On A Can,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
Steve Hackett,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
Eden Ahbez,
The Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
New Order,
Neu!,
Blancmange,
10cc,
Cybotron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dirtbombs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
The Litter,
Smog,
Nas,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
Gong,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Inner City,
Duran Duran,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultravox,
The Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Moon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.