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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the dance 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The J.B.'s,
Supertramp,
The Gap Band,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Bill Wells,
Funky Four + One,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
Alison Limerick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pussy Galore,
Roxette,
Eddi Front,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Inner City,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
Japan,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Human League,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Brothers Johnson,
F. McDonald,
Terry Callier,
The Seeds,
the Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
EPMD,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
The Sonics,
The Pop Group,
Newcleus,
Davy DMX,
LL Cool J,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.