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 Liechtenstein and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rap 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dead C,
Mark Hollis,
Neil Young,
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Pus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yellowson,
The American Breed,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aural Exciters,
New Age Steppers,
Franke,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick Morgan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rosa Yemen,
The Trojans,
Metal Thangz,
Model 500,
The Move,
Ossler,
The Monks,
Subhumans,
Harmonia,
Jandek,
D'Angelo,
Suicide,
Black Bananas,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
Easy Going,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw,
Yazoo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Siglo XX,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Dawn Penn,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.