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 Liberia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Freddie Wadling to the rock 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index,
June of 44,
Model 500,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Marc Almond,
Eli Mardock,
John Holt,
Magma,
Gang Green,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nick Fraelich,
John Cale,
Oneida,
Malaria!,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kenny Larkin,
The American Breed,
Josef K,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
The Star Department,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
Thee Headcoats,
Magazine,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
CMW,
Minutemen,
The Moleskins,
The J.B.'s,
Prince Buster,
Scientists,
Easy Going,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Normal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Michelle Simonal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
The Last Poets,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Circle Jerks,
Sandy B,
Intrusion,
The Busters,
10cc,
Soft Machine,
Scan 7,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.