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 Chile and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Marvin Gaye to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Khruangbin,
Sight & Sound,
June Days,
MC5,
Bill Near,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Mills,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Lindisfarne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash,
Andrew Hill,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Skatalites,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
Accadde A,
Basic Channel,
Bobby Womack,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Von Mondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Depeche Mode,
Skaos,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lungfish,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erykah Badu,
Junior Murvin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
This Heat,
The Move,
The Standells,
Bluetip,
The Techniques,
Bush Tetras,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.