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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pantaleimon to the grunge 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Schoolly D,
Delon & Dalcan,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Das Ding,
Terry Callier,
Easy Going,
Pylon,
Altered Images,
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
PIL,
Dual Sessions,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Anthony Braxton,
John Foxx,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Reuben Wilson,
Dawn Penn,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cluster,
Brothers Johnson,
Gichy Dan,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
Tom Boy,
DJ Style,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
Fat Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lightning Bolt,
cv313,
Pierre Henry,
Junior Murvin,
Au Pairs,
Scion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric Dolphy,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.