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 South Africa and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soft Cell to the jazz 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
Infiniti,
Magazine,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
Derrick May,
The Saints,
The Gladiators,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Susan Cadogan,
L. Decosne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Certain Ratio,
Hoover,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
Blancmange,
Rosa Yemen,
Lungfish,
Marvin Gaye,
Nils Olav,
Q65,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camberwell Now,
Nas,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Cecil Taylor,
Donny Hathaway,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
The Angels of Light,
Lower 48,
Al Stewart,
Sister Nancy,
Animal Collective,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.