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 Mauritius and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Grey Daturas to the funk 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Mary Jane Girls,
Slick Rick,
Drexciya,
Patti Smith,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Mills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
The Modern Lovers,
Underground Resistance,
Dual Sessions,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Black Flag,
The Blackbyrds,
Make Up,
Josef K,
Can,
Thee Headcoats,
Grauzone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
LL Cool J,
The Slackers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wasted Youth,
Massinfluence,
Warsaw,
Gong,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Arab on Radar,
10cc,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Audionom,
Max Romeo,
Circle Jerks,
The Residents,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camouflage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Skatalites,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.