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 Lille.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quadrant to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Faust,
The Slits,
The Golliwogs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
Sixth Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacob Miller,
Fluxion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crime,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Sheep,
Ronan,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang of Four,
Byron Stingily,
David Bowie,
The Busters,
Sonic Youth,
Josef K,
World's Most,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Groovy Waters,
The Gap Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Toasters,
The Star Department,
Hot Snakes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Motorama,
Juan Atkins,
The Durutti Column,
Black Flag,
Henry Cow,
Fat Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Erykah Badu,
Colin Newman,
Alice Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Public Enemy,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.