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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Mad Mike,
Fela Kuti,
Negative Approach,
The Dirtbombs,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerri Chandler,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dave Gahan,
Mandrill,
Sun Ra,
Pere Ubu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
10cc,
Junior Murvin,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
The Blues Magoos,
The Evens,
John Holt,
Marmalade,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Television Personalities,
Supertramp,
Simply Red,
Procol Harum,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Graham Central Station,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sarah Menescal,
Anthony Braxton,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Absolute Body Control,
Lyres,
The New Christs,
China Crisis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Essential Logic,
Scott Walker,
Scientists,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Slackers,
Warren Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Albert Ayler,
Accadde A,
Mantronix,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.