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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alphaville,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter & Gordon,
Pylon,
The Music Machine,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
E-Dancer,
The Raincoats,
the Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Procol Harum,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Sheep,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Womack,
Soulsonic Force,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Juan Atkins,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Leaves,
X-102,
Minor Threat,
Todd Rundgren,
Sight & Sound,
Faust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter,
Mars,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Steve Hackett,
The Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Lalann,
Robert Hood,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Howard Jones,
Adolescents,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.