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 Spain and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
the Sonics,
The Searchers,
Motorama,
Godley & Creme,
Sixth Finger,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
Negative Approach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
The Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Loose Ends,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wire,
Bauhaus,
Tubeway Army,
This Heat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The United States of America,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terry Callier,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Franke,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Foxx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Metal Thangz,
Gabor Szabo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.