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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Pulsallama to the disco 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lalann,
Scientists,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Groovy Waters,
Liliput,
Hardrive,
The Kinks,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Wyatt,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
CMW,
Magma,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moebius,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Pole,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
New Age Steppers,
The Knickerbockers,
Lower 48,
China Crisis,
The Skatalites,
Easy Going,
Wings,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
Mr. Review,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quando Quango,
Soft Machine,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
Tubeway Army,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.