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 Israel and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grime 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Erykah Badu,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fad Gadget,
Moby Grape,
June Days,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Leaves,
Yazoo,
Archie Shepp,
The Stooges,
Bill Near,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
Juan Atkins,
Roy Ayers,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
The American Breed,
Bobby Sherman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anakelly,
The Zeros,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Marc Almond,
Absolute Body Control,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra,
Q and Not U,
Eric Copeland,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agent Orange,
John Holt,
Avey Tare,
Alton Ellis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
Sister Nancy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Schoolly D,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Iggy Pop,
Stereo Dub,
Mantronix,
Suburban Knight,
Max Romeo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Toni Rubio,
Electric Prunes,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.