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 Sweden and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eve St. Jones 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
ABC,
Colin Newman,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fire Engines,
Deakin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Model 500,
Aaron Thompson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
AZ,
Piero Umiliani,
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Bourne,
The Doors,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Starr,
Bob Dylan,
The Fuzztones,
Can,
The Leaves,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dead Boys,
Mandrill,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Easy Going,
Lower 48,
Vainqueur,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Graham Central Station,
Kerri Chandler,
Television Personalities,
Man Parrish,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Albert Ayler,
Negative Approach,
Fat Boys,
Delta 5,
Scientists,
The American Breed,
Shoche,
Connie Case,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül II,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.