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 Colombia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
Alice Coltrane,
Liliput,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Warren Ellis,
Second Layer,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
Pylon,
Joey Negro,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hoover,
Boredoms,
Kas Product,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
Leonard Cohen,
Icehouse,
Tubeway Army,
This Heat,
Suburban Knight,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Associates,
Todd Terry,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Anthony Braxton,
Rufus Thomas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
Joe Finger,
D'Angelo,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Charles Mingus,
Popol Vuh,
Marine Girls,
The Invisible,
Man Parrish,
The Gladiators,
The Young Rascals,
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blues Magoos,
Boz Scaggs,
Reagan Youth,
Bauhaus,
Arthur Verocai,
Depeche Mode,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.