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 Seychelles and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
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 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 Schoolly D to the rock 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
The Raincoats,
Magma,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
OOIOO,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
CMW,
Stetsasonic,
The Sound,
The Fugs,
Half Japanese,
Wings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vladislav Delay,
AZ,
FM Einheit,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Royal Trux,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television Personalities,
Franke,
The Saints,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
China Crisis,
Crooked Eye,
Quadrant,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barbara Tucker,
Mad Mike,
Graham Central Station,
48th St. Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Swans,
Neil Young,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris & Cosey,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.