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 Belarus and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lyres,
Cluster,
Bill Wells,
Angry Samoans,
Marvin Gaye,
Magma,
The Grass Roots,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Oblivians,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Pus,
David Axelrod,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faust,
the Sonics,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiohead,
Television,
Suburban Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Agitation Free,
Sight & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slave,
Fugazi,
The Selecter,
Ituana,
Warren Ellis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Don Cherry,
Saccharine Trust,
the Normal,
The Skatalites,
Soulsonic Force,
AZ,
Lalann,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
Dawn Penn,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sällskapet,
Monolake,
Ossler,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wings,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.