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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
D'Angelo,
Echospace,
Robert Hood,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
Cal Tjader,
Steve Hackett,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
R.M.O.,
Joe Finger,
Lalann,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
Grey Daturas,
Piero Umiliani,
Urselle,
Whodini,
Groovy Waters,
Chrome,
Animal Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Skriet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
The Count Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
The Associates,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
Schoolly D,
Fear,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispy Ambulance,
E-Dancer,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Vladislav Delay,
Brothers Johnson,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.