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 New Zealand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 Reuben Wilson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
New Age Steppers,
La Düsseldorf,
Main Source,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
Fela Kuti,
Underground Resistance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heaven 17,
Warsaw,
Au Pairs,
Carl Craig,
MDC,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flipper,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Chris Corsano,
Bad Manners,
Nas,
Groovy Waters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fugazi,
Crash Course in Science,
Alton Ellis,
Interpol,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Alphaville,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Schoolly D,
Urselle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Görl,
The Last Poets,
Magma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Steve Hackett,
Michelle Simonal,
Y Pants,
Wolf Eyes,
June of 44,
Stetsasonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Black Pus,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pop Group,
FM Einheit,
Aural Exciters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Ultravox,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.