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 Lithuania and from London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Mad Mike to the grime 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pagans,
Moebius,
Pet Shop Boys,
Interpol,
Cecil Taylor,
The Star Department,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arab on Radar,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D,
Minor Threat,
Howard Jones,
Black Sheep,
The Count Five,
Buzzcocks,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Womack,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Cal Tjader,
Faraquet,
Lindisfarne,
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fortunes,
Pole,
The Human League,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Newcleus,
Roxette,
Anakelly,
The American Breed,
Robert Hood,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Hoover,
Minny Pops,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
Yellowson,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Marine Girls,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.