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 Hungary and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Marmalade to the grunge 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Japan,
Swans,
Goldenarms,
Isaac Hayes,
Gong,
Public Enemy,
Livin' Joy,
Bang On A Can,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vainqueur,
Gang of Four,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monolake,
Lower 48,
Flamin' Groovies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Funky Four + One,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
cv313,
Maleditus Sound,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
Tim Buckley,
Mark Hollis,
Nico,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boredoms,
Skriet,
Parry Music,
Prince Buster,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
Graham Central Station,
Eurythmics,
Fugazi,
The Sonics,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Echospace,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.