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 Nigeria and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Colin Newman 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
The Mojo Men,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
The Happenings,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Barracudas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cecil Taylor,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Danielle Patucci,
Pole,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Music Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Donny Hathaway,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang of Four,
The Wake,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Camberwell Now,
New Age Steppers,
Althea and Donna,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rekid,
Goldenarms,
Interpol,
The Gap Band,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
Mo-Dettes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Rites of Spring,
a-ha,
Charles Mingus,
The Gun Club,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
Cluster,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.