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 United Kingdom and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 The Fortunes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Make Up,
Intrusion,
Godley & Creme,
Neu!,
Symarip,
Erykah Badu,
Jacob Miller,
David McCallum,
The Cure,
Pantytec,
The Neon Judgement,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Barracudas,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
Depeche Mode,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Yazoo,
The Young Rascals,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unrelated Segments,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
Soft Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pulsallama,
Althea and Donna,
Suicide,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eli Mardock,
OOIOO,
cv313,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
The Techniques,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Audionom,
Babytalk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Doors,
Skaos,
The Fugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bad Manners,
Yaz,
Scion,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.