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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Roxette,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim,
Adolescents,
Brick,
Gong,
Mars,
The Remains,
Rhythm & Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fela Kuti,
The Gap Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Technova,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
Aaron Thompson,
Nick Fraelich,
the Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Grey Daturas,
Kas Product,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Metal Thangz,
Barbara Tucker,
Livin' Joy,
Man Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
The Stooges,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
Gang Starr,
Television,
Camouflage,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
Anakelly,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Echospace,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donald Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
Goldenarms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Five Americans,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.