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 Paraguay and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Sheep to the rock 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Happenings,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
Thee Headcoats,
Moss Icon,
Dark Day,
Lou Christie,
The Standells,
Ornette Coleman,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sarah Menescal,
Joy Division,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker,
Alice Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Aloha Tigers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
The Toasters,
Marmalade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Saints,
Eve St. Jones,
Monks,
Nico,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
The Residents,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Association,
Bootsy Collins,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
The Pop Group,
Ten City,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Mission of Burma,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
Fatback Band,
Minutemen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Slits,
New Age Steppers,
The Fuzztones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.