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 Cambodia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Gladiators to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
Youth Brigade,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
Mandrill,
World's Most,
Tears for Fears,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grey Daturas,
Danielle Patucci,
Rapeman,
Stetsasonic,
Swell Maps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
a-ha,
The Mojo Men,
Audionom,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Fad Gadget,
Faust,
Fugazi,
Main Source,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scratch Acid,
Average White Band,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore,
Porter Ricks,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Qualms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
Sandy B,
Warren Ellis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
The Leaves,
Wasted Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marmalade,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.